Mirage
by indy81
Summary: An audit of Plant Number 3 brings a new character to Smallville. Will a small town grow on someone with a secret past? Pre Tempest. There is some strong language and violence. Thanks for the Reviews. I don't own Smallville characters.
1. Chapter 1

            She looked down at the table in front of her, carefully darkening the outline of what she had drawn.  It was getting dark outside, so she turned on her desk lamp to shed a circular pool of light onto the latest comic book that she was working on.  She wondered why she even made them; she could never sell them even though she was more than talented enough.  Sure, she could give them to the guys, but it wasn't the same.  At least she didn't think it was.  Maybe she did it because it reminded her of who she really was, which was pretty easy to forget in a life like this.

            Tap, tap, tap.  It was the sound of distant footsteps.  She listened to the noise approaching from down the hall outside of her apartment.  She continued inking.  The footsteps stopped outside her door and there was a pause.  "Just come in, Griffin," she said without looking up.  

            The door opened.  A young man spiky black hair and blue eyes stepped through.  "Damn, I really tried this time," he said half joking half serious.  

            "Your walk, like your fighting style, like your fingerprints, is a unique thing," she said as she set down her inking pen and turned on her stool to look at him.  

            He looked from her to the desk.  A smile crossed his face, "Hey a new one, the guys have been wondering when you were going to get off your ass and do the next one."

            "The way you talk to your EX-O could get you court marshaled…or killed," she said with a wry grin.  

            "Well, don't kill me when I give you this," he crossed the small living and dining room and handed her a folder.

            "What is it?" she asked, but already knew the answer.

            "A -- special request from the higher ups.  Aren't they always?" he leaned against her drawing desk and leafed through the comic book that she had been working on.  He watched her open her folder and read its contents.

            "What the hell kind of special request is that?" she asked still holding the folder.  "And don't they know we just got back?" she asked closing the folder and setting it on the desk. 

            "The Feds are doing a simultaneous invoice audit of Luthor Corp.  It is covering the main office here in Metropolis and Plants One, Two, and Three.  They ran out of government employees who specialize in that sort of thing to cover it all, I guess.  They just need you to fill in as a supervisor, no real work, just sign off on it when it's over," he said casually.  This sort of request had been made of her before and she had done it.  She should, they paid her enough to sit around and supervise other people working.

            "So why do I get Plant Number Three if I'm so important?" she said dryly.  

            He hesitated.  "I think it is your temporary co-workers that scared off the…" he searched for a nice word.

            She picked up the folder again and read more while he was talking, "the interesting people," she said as she looked at who she would be assigned to supervise.

            "Rhone, you are going to do it.  I know you.  It's easy lucrative work, and you know we aren't going to have another mission for a little while.  You get so bored during hang time, spending all of your time training or spying…" he trailed off.

            "You mean recon," she corrected, "and you know it is necessary."  She turned to her bookshelf and looked at the only picture in her small apartment.  It was one of the team, the whole team.  

            "Bishop would be proud of you and what you have done -- what you are capable of," Griffin put his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, looking at the picture as well.  He finished, "we all are."

            She looked down, "not all of you."  

            "Everyone that matters or isn't a dick, is proud of you.  There, better?"

            "He just makes me worry about…cohesiveness," she said, still looking at the picture.  

            "We elected you EX-O.  Everyone had an equal chance to become our superior officer.  I think he is the only one who didn't vote for you -- besides you."

            She smiled, "You act like it was some sort of huge vote."

            "Consensus among the twenty-eight of us that voted for you is a powerful thing.  We don't exactly agree on shit like that."

            "And I do a lot of other stuff," she said remembering his comment that she only trained.  She gestured to her comic book for an example.

            "I know you do.  Actually, I don't know how you find so many hours in a day."

            "Unlike you, I don't spend most of my free time chasing tail at the clubs in the city," she said, nudging him.

            "Hey, I do my own recon," he grinned at her.  He started to walk out of the room.  Half way to the door he stopped.  Something had been on his mind for quite sometime, he stopped, "Rhone?"

            "Yeah, Griffin," she said casually.

            "After -- after Paris, we thought we lost you.  Are you sure that you don't remember anything?  I mean, you just showed up one day and you had…" he trailed off again when he gestured toward the medium sized tube with the shoulder strap leaned against the wall, close to the desk.  It looked like one that an artist would carry, and she did put art stuff in it once in a while, but he knew better.  

            "I've told you guys everything I remember.  And from what you say it was a pretty wicked explosion, and everything until I somehow found my way back here to base just isn't there," she said with a far off look in her eyes.  

            He nodded and started to walk toward the door again.  As he stepped out he said, "Goodnight," over his shoulder.

            She turned in her stool, back to her comic book and replied, "Yeah."  No one ever really addressed the fact that she truly didn't sleep anymore.  She brought her right foot up to the lap of her left leg and took off her sock, contemplating the sole of her foot.  She decided to do some research on her new assignment and change her government file accordingly when she finished the page she was working on.

            "Well, Dad, I'm not worried because Plant Number Three isn't doing anything wrong," Lex said into his speakerphone, holding a reflective crystal glass of scotch in one hand.

            "Just get your invoices straightened out so they can get in and get out as quickly as possible," Lionel Luthor didn't like the government sniffing around anywhere for any length of time.

            "Do we have any names?" Lex asked casually.  He did background checks on everyone that did any kind of work for him.  He did even more lengthy inquires into the ones that would be investigating his plant. 

            On the other end of the line, a few pages were shuffled.  "All boring government employees, Lex.  I would be willing to bet they are the most boring people you will ever have the displeasure of meeting."

            Lex imagined the sneering grin on his father's face when he said that.  Although he had to admit that he agreed.  Nonetheless, he liked to do his own research and make his own judgments, "Names?" he asked again, looking at the ceiling.

            "Actual auditors are…Ben Carls, Faith Reed, and Jean Rex.  They are being supervised by…" there was the sound of more shuffling.  

Lex took this opportunity to write the names down.  Then he looked at the phone when he asked, "Supervised?"

"Yes, Son, our tax dollars hard at work," there was a pause.  "Rhone Chade," he said finishing the list.  

Lex wrote down the final name on his list as well.  Briefly, there was a woman's voice in the background on the other end of the line.  Lex gave a brief, "Bye, Dad," and hung up without waiting for a response.  He hadn't been sleeping well lately and wasn't in the mood to try and place the voice.  He looked at the list of names he had been given and picked up the phone to call a few of his contacts.

Rhone pulled up to the office building where she was supposed to meet her temporary subordinates.  She had read their files, among many others.  She knew before she saw them that this was going to be a long, no very long, assignment.  She got out of her black sports car and began to walk toward the building.  She was dressed in a black fitted pants suit.  She didn't like the suit very much, but she had a pair of Air Walks on and a pair of dark wrap around sunglasses, they helped.  Her auburn hair was pulled completely up, perfectly bound against her head.  

Halfway to the building the glass door swung open and three people walked out.  From their file pictures, she knew who they were.  She put on her best fake smile; they had to believe she was in business, right?  She held out her hand to the first person that approached her, "Mr. Carls, I'm Rhone Cha…."

"Yeah, nice to meet you," he said without taking her hand.  It wasn't remotely believable.  

"Aren't you a little young?  Are you sure that you went to college at all?" questioned the older of the two women that Rhone recognized as Faith Reed.

"I think so," Rhone said with the same smile still on her face.  "But to be honest, it's all kind of a drunken haze," she added simply.  So this wasn't the best way to start things.  She should have realized that these people would be a little hostile that they would be reporting to a twenty-two year old when they were old enough to be her parents.  

There was an awkward silence, but Rhone didn't mind.  She never did.  

Jean Rex broke the silence, "Everyone else's stuff is in my car."  She gestured toward the street.

Rhone followed Jean's gaze to a white minivan.  "Oh, hell no," she said under her breath.  She looked at Jean and with her fake smile again in full force, "Good for everyone else."  Rhone started to walk away, ditching the smile and in a deeper voice said over her shoulder, "I'll meet you there."


	2. Chapter 2

Clark walked through the halls of Lex's castle.  He had just made the produce delivery and wanted to catch up.  Sometimes he would wonder if he took a wrong turn somewhere and got lost if anyone would ever find him.  Quite some time ago servants stopped announcing his presence or showing him where to find Lex all together.  However, the room that Lex used for his office was a pretty good bet.  

Clark reached the double doors and knocked softly as he peeked inside Lex's office.  He was sitting at his desk, looking through some files.  He smiled when he looked up and saw Clark.  Clark shot him a blinding smile, "Hey, Lex, I just dropped off your produce."

"Thanks Clark, I appreciate it.  I lost track of the time reading through some -- files," Lex didn't feel the need to talk about background checks but knew his hesitation was a give away. 

"So, whom are you checking up on this week?  Not me I hope," Clark said with a smile but was sincere.

Lex smiled wryly at Clark, "There are some people from the government that are going to check over some invoices.  Nothing really, I just like to know whom I'm dealing with."  

Clark nodded; you didn't have to know Lex very long to know he liked to know things.  Ok, he liked to know everything.  

Lex rubbed his hand over the back of his neck.  For the first time, Clark noticed how tired his friend looked.  "Hey, Lex, maybe you should give this a break and get a coffee or something," Clark suggested out of slight concern.

"Considering these are the three most boring files I have ever read," Lex started, "I should get it done."

"How boring can they be, someone's intimate details," Clark was surprised at himself.  Not only that he was saying this but he regarded having someone's personal life in file form on his best friend's desk as normal.

Lex smiled at the challenge.  "This one, Jean Rex, is quite interesting," Lex leaned forward.  He finished by placing the file in front of Clark, "She collects ceramic farm animals."

Clark looked at Lex and after a moment said, "Wow."  After a brief pause he said, "I'm big enough to admit that I was wrong -- really wrong."

As Clark said this, Lex opened the last file on his desk labeled "Rhone Chade."  He started reading and an "Hn" escaped him as he leaned back.

"What?" Clark asked when he heard his reaction.  

"The one who is supervising is only twenty-two years old.  She is half the age of the three people she is overseeing," he answered.  Lex thought it peculiar.  He always considered the government a horrible bureaucracy that rewarded seniority.  

"She must be good at what she does," Clark offered.

"Either that or she knows who to sleep with," Lex commented with a smile and Clark blushed.

Rhone pulled into the parking lot of the Smallville Hotel.  So far what she had seen of this town had not impressed her.  There were a couple of spots she would have to make acquainted with her skateboard, but that was about it.  Otherwise, this place reminded her of home, a place she really didn't care to think about.  

There were all of those stories that came right out of the X-files she had run across, but nothing concrete.  Considering who she was, what she had seen, but most importantly what she was, she believed that things like that were more than possible.  It was painfully obvious, however ignored, that all that cheap sci-fi movie of the week shit was related to that meteor shower that occurred here.  "That isn't my job," she told herself getting out of the car.  She grabbed her artist's case and slung it over her shoulder to her back.  She knew she didn't need it, but it felt natural to have it.

She walked up to the man behind the main desk of the Smallville Hotel and smiled, "Hi, I'm Rhone Chade."  She offered her hand to the man.  He looked pleasantly surprised as he shook her hand.  She continued, "I must say that I was quite surprised at the fine establishment that my superiors decided to put us up in."

"Hello, Ms. Chade," the man beamed as he started to type on his keyboard.  "Here we are," he said, pleased with himself.  

Rhone continued to smile back at him, "That was quite efficient, I would love to tell your employer what an excellent job you are doing."

"Come with me, Ms. Chade," he said holding her key in his hand.

"Call me Rhone," she corrected with a smile.

"Rhone," he said leading her to the elevator.

They made small talk on the way to her room, about his family, the details of his job, his hobbies.  She wasn't really listening, but she made it seem like it.  It was always good to have friends, especially in new territory.  By the time they got to her room he was asking if he could help her with any bags she had, even though this wasn't that kind of hotel.  She insisted that she would be fine and he told her that if she needed anything, all she had to do was call Matt at the front desk.  He left with a smile.  

She looked around the room, nothing special.  She got her bag and laptop from her sporty car and got out her skateboard.  She changed into what she referred to as normal cloths.  Cargo pants and a fitted T-shirt.  She considered taking out her light brown contacts, but knew better.  She put her artists' case over her shoulder, she knew it wasn't necessary but had learned to work with it.  She walked by the desk again and the man smiled and waved while on the phone.  She returned the pleasantries.  She put her sunglasses down over her eyes and walked out the door.  She always made it her goal to be well liked in a situation like this; it made life easier.  

She started to skate.  She noticed her co-workers drive by in their minivan.  They didn't seem to recognize her.  "Good," she thought to herself.  Thank god she didn't have to share a room with any of them.  Not only did she dislike them, but then they would know about the whole bizarre sleep ritual she had, or lack of it.  

She skated and did a few minor tricks and grinds.  She wasn't trying to impress anyone, no one was watching anyway.  She realized that she was starting to get thirsty and scanned what passed for down town for a place to pick up some water.

Clark was sitting at a table amidst an empty Talon with Chloe and Pete.  Chloe had picked them up and they were trying to work on their chemistry homework, but not having much luck.  Clark had taken to staring at Lana who was filling sweeteners behind the counter.  Chloe and Pete were flipping through notes and textbooks.  Occasionally, Pete would glance up at Clark and chuckle.

Only Lana looked up when the door opened, but Clark followed her gaze to the door.  A young woman with a skateboard and one of those tube things that artistic types carry around was walking toward the counter.  She was dressed like a skater and had extremely short hair, or it was just pulled back that tight?  She was slim but with broad shoulders, maybe that was why she walked like a guy.  Clark looked back to Lana; she was physically tensed and staring at the figure with dark sunglasses purposefully coming at her.  

Pete and Chloe both looked up from their homework.  This woman had some type of presence that no one could place.  Both Pete and Chloe and watched her cross the room.  She reached the counter and stood right in front of Lana.  She knew she was being stared at.  Here was more of that awkward silence she was so used to.

Clark used his X-ray vision on the woman to investigate her bag.  He was confused by what he saw.  Everything else looked normal, so he knew nothing was wrong with his ability.  She didn't -- have a skeleton.  She was solid looking underneath her skin.  And her artistic bag had a bunch of machine looking parts in it, like it did something.  He stopped focusing because he couldn't figure out what else was in the bag, but there was something else in there with all the machine parts.  

"Can I get a water from you please?" the young woman asked in a surprisingly casual voice.

Lana paused for a moment before the question registered.  "Ummm, a bottled water?" Lana asked.

"No," the woman replied.  Lana looked nervous.  She put her sunglasses on her head and smiled at Lana, "I want you to spit in a glass until it's full and then sell it to me at an exorbitantly high price."  Lana returned her smile; it was contagious.  The woman paused, "I'm Rhone, Rhone Chade."  Rhone switched her skateboard to her left hand and held out her right for Lana to shake.  

"I'm sorry, I'm Lana.  Lana Lang," Lana was visibly relieved.  She shook the outstretched hand and smiled even wider.

"It is a pleasure to meet you Lana Lang," Rhone said.  She knew two of the three at the table relaxed as well.  "Are you always so -- tense?" she asked allowing her vision to travel to the table behind her.  Her gaze landed on Clark and she smiled at him; she had a feeling that she could trust him.  That was – rare.

He smiled back, but it was reserved.  He didn't like what his X-ray vision revealed, or didn't reveal.  Where had he heard that name before?

Lana got a bottle of water and set it on the counter, "You're not from around here."  Rhone sat down at the counter.

"Beautiful and smart," Rhone complimented.  "I normally live just outside of Metropolis.  I'm here to offer -- professional services to Luthor Corp.'s Plant Number Three."

That was where Clark knew that name.  He couldn't believe that he had forgotten so quickly.  Her name was written on the folder Lex was looking at when he talked about her sleeping with the right people.  Clark blushed at the recollection.

While Clark was in thought Pete had gotten up and sat down next to Rhone at the counter.  He had introduced himself and was introducing Clark and Chloe.  "Clark Kent?" Rhone asked.  "The local hero," she added.  Clark blushed again and flashed a large smile.  

Clark forgot about his X-ray scan of her and the bag.  Maybe he was at a bad angle or something.  She seemed nice enough.  He had a feeling about her, that she was a good person.  Either way, he would mention it to his mom and dad when he got home.  

"And Chloe Sullivan," Pete said, gesturing to the spunky blond sitting at the table.

"The intrepid reporter," Rhone's complimented.  That solicited a blushing smile from Chloe.  She continued, "I have read some of your work for The Torch."

"You like my fascinating account of high school sporting events?" Chloe asked dryly.

"No.  Actually, I like your other work.  Your reports on the meteor fragments and their effects on your community are -- insightful," Rhone said looking at Chloe.  

"You believe me?" Chloe could not hide her surprise.

"I didn't say that," Rhone smiled.  "But it's not like anyone else has a better explanation for what goes on here.  It's interesting," she finished.

That was good enough for Chloe.  Clark watched her face light up; he knew what was coming.

            "You should come and see the wall!" Chloe blurted.

            "You're going to scare her away, Chloe," Pete said.  "You know, I can't shake the felling that I know you from somewhere," Pete added.  He was looking at her like he was trying to place her.

            "I doubt that, I've never been to Smallville before today," Rhone quickly pointed out. 

            "Pete, can you spare just one woman of your charms," Chloe joked.

            "I just enjoy good company," Pete responded.  "So," he turned his attention back to Rhone, "what are you doing Friday night?"

            "Probably working," Rhone said smiling.  

            "Your loss, I know a great place," Pete said.

            "Then what are you doing here?" Rhone asked.  "I'm only kidding," she said, putting a hand on Pete's elbow.  "You'll get used to it, hopefully," she added.  Everyone smiled, they weren't used to that level of sarcasm, but it was funny.  She looked at the notes and books on the table that they were seated around when she walked in, "What are you guys working on?"

            Chloe melodramatically buried her head in her hands on the table and there was a muffled reply of, "Chemistry,"

            "Really," one of Rhone's eyebrows perked up.  

            "Do you know anything about chemistry?" Clark asked hopefully.  Chloe looked up hopefully.  

            "You could say that," Rhone said getting up from her position at the counter.  She didn't mention that she knew chemistry and physics because she had blown up more things than she could remember with, well, anything.  They didn't need to know that, no one did.  She sat at the table, Pete followed.  She looked at their homework questions and smiled.


	3. Chapter 3

            The door to the Talon opened about an hour later.  Rhone could tell that it was a man and a woman by their footsteps.  She continued to help Chloe on a specific problem that she had.  

Clark stood up, "Hey, Mom, Dad,"

"We figured you could use a ride home, it's almost time for dinner," the man said.

"We don't want to rush you though, we know that chemistry is giving you a hard time," the woman said softly.  

"Actually," Clark said, "we're done."  A surprised look crossed their faces.  "Yeah," he continued with a smile, "we lucked out, a chemist came in for some water and saved us."

"Came in for some H20 and saved you," Rhone corrected.  She smiled brightly as she stood to meet the two new comers.  

Clark introduced them, "Rhone Chade, this is my Mom and Dad."

Rhone turned to the woman and held out her hand and when taken she said, "It's great to meet you, Mom."  She then turned to Jonathon and did the same, addressing him as Dad.  She continued, "It is excellent that you take such an active role in Clark's education.  He is one of the most well-mannered boys I have ever met."  

They both smiled at her. Clark noticed that they didn't correct her when she called them Mom and Dad.  She was just one of those people.  Chloe and Pete started to clean up their study supplies.

"We appreciate you helping Clark with his chemistry," Martha said with a smile.

"It was a pleasure," she responded, maintaining her smile.  She turned to Clark and added, "If you need anymore help with anything, I'll be around for a little while."

"Is there a way for us to get in contact with you?" Clark asked.  He realized how odd that sounded 

Jonathon added, "We would like to have you for dinner, as a thank you for helping Clark."

"That's unnecessary, I enjoyed helping," Rhone said.

"We wouldn't feel right if you didn't," Martha prodded.  

Rhone pulled a card out of one of her cargo pockets and handed it to Clark.  It simply said "Rhone Chade" and a cell phone number.  "I'm staying at the Smallville Hotel.  However, I don't know if I will be able to take you up on your generous offer," Rhone said, "I plan on working the two weeks that I'll be here."

Before either Jonathon or Martha could ask about her reason for being in Smallville, Clark rushed them out.  He didn't want his dad to start one of his speeches about Lex or Luthor Corp.  Over his shoulder Jonathon asked if Rhone needed a ride to her hotel.

"I have a ride.  Thanks, Dad," she held up her skateboard smiling.  She called good-bye to them and told them it was nice to meet them.  Rhone turned to the three people still left in the Talon, "I must be going, I -- abandoned my co-workers earlier today.  It was nice meeting you.  I hope to see you around."

There was a chorus of thank yous and goodbyes.  Rhone waved and walked out the door.  She waived to the Kents one last time as they got into their truck and jumped on her skateboard to head back to the hotel.

"Well, she seems like a nice girl," Martha said with a smile.  

Jonathon nodded in agreement as he turned the truck onto the long road that lead to their farm.  

"Listen," Clark started.  "There is something weird about her," he finished reluctantly.  

"What do you mean, Son?" Jonathon asked.

            "Well when I looked at her with my X-ray vision, I didn't see through her.  It was like she was -- solid," Clark said.

            "Are you sure?" Martha asked.

            "And that tube she caries around," Clark started.

            "The artists' tube?" Martha clarified.

            "Yeah, she didn't take it off the whole time she was there.  When I used my X-ray ability on that, it was like a machine inside.  I couldn't really tell, but there was something else in there too," Clark was thinking about it.

            "Not art supplies?" Jonathon inquired.

            "No," Clark replied with a half smile.

            "Let's just play it by ear for now," Martha offered.  She had good feelings about the young woman.  Both Jonathon and Clark nodded in agreement.

            Rhone ollied up the step to the hotel kicked up her skateboard and walked in.  The man behind the desk was on the phone but they smiled and waved to one another.  She rode the elevator to the third floor and locked herself in her room.  She closed the blinds and started searching everything.  It was a habit she picked up in the military, she couldn't help it.  She had to search for surveillance objects in an unfamiliar environment where her defenses would be temporarily lowered.  

When she was satisfied that the room was safe, she changed into the training outfit she brought.  It was beige, not unlike a karate uniform.  She sat cross-legged on the floor, slowed her breathing and heart rate.  She began to meditate in the way she had learned.  Three hours later, she returned her breathing and heart rate to normal and was ready for a new day.  

It was 11:00 pm.  She didn't have to look at the clock, she just knew.  She just knew a lot of things, things she shouldn't know.  She knew weirder things than the time.  Sometimes she would see things before they happened, it had saved her ass in the field and in combat more than once.  And that wasn't the oddest thing that she could tell people, but she never would.  Only one person knew the whole truth, the most trusted.  None of her men knew, not even Griffin.  

"Enough," she said to herself.  She grabbed her artist's tube, walked to the window, opened it, and took out the screen.  She peered down at the three stories to the ground and at the smooth wall that lead there.  Using her magnified night vision, she checked to make sure that no one was watching and jumped out the window.

Lex looked at the wristwatch his mother had given him.  It was getting late, but should he bother to try and sleep?  He leaned back and looked at his computer monitor.  He got up and thought about playing a game of pool but changed his mind; he was tired.  He walked through the silent castle slowly, looking at things that he didn't know he had.  That sort of thing happens when you live in a castle.  

He reached his room and shut the door behind him.  He peeled off his cloths and after glancing at his bed, put on a pair of silk black boxer shorts.  After brushing his teeth he stepped out of his bathroom but caught movement outside of one of his windows.  He quickly walked over too it, but saw nothing.  He realized that he must be more tired than he thought; he was on the second floor.  Things don't just fly by.  He checked to make sure his windows were locked, just in case, and slid between the black Egyptian cotton sheets of his bed.  


	4. Chapter 4

Ben Carls, Faith Reed, and Jean Rex stormed off the elevator of the Smallville Hotel.  The man behind the desk detected their anger from across the room and looked frightened as they approached.  He didn't care for the impression that they made yesterday.  He wished the other one were there instead; Rhone was nice.  

Ben Carls spoke when they reached the desk, "Could you leave a message for Ms. Chade, when she decides to get up?"  He gestured toward the ceiling with a frown.  "Could you tell her…" he was cut off.

"Actually, Mr. Carls, Ms. Chade left a message for you," he grinned.  "At 6 this morning she came downstairs and politely," he made a point to say politely, "…asked me to tell you that she, quote:  "Couldn't wait around for you anymore and would see you there," end quote."

The three walked outside and, sure enough, the black sports car was missing.  They were surprised and angry.  The surprise made them even angrier.  They piled into Jean's van and drove off.  

Rhone had already used her trained charisma to become friendly with the staff that her team would have to work with and some they wouldn't work with.  

She was surprised to find that they had arrived there so early.  Not as early as her, but early nonetheless.  They needed more help in their department; at least one other person, maybe two.  They didn't have everything sorted the way that they should have, so Rhone was happy she had come early to help them.  They seemed grateful for the help, but surprised at the source.  They knew she wasn't paid to do their job, and she worked really fast.

At 8 her co-workers arrived, and they didn't look too happy to see her.  She knew in their hearts that they wanted her back in bed at the hotel, just so they could give her a hard time about it.  She thought to herself; too bad, Suckers.  She had her hair tied back and her dark pants suit on before most people even think about getting up in the morning.  Some would still call it night.  She also wondered if all of this animosity came from her age or if there was something else?  One thing was for sure; there was a reason that no one else would work with these people.  There was a reason the government had to call in a favor, a very expensive favor, to get a supervisor for them.  

"Why aren't these sorted?" Faith Reed asked.  

"We didn't have time," a young girl that worked in the office answered.

"This should have been done before we got here," Jean said in an exasperated tone.

"We're almost done," Rhone said, putting a hand on the shoulder of the young girl that spoke before.  "Aren't we, Beth?" she encouraged.  Beth nodded.  

"Ten minutes," Beth assured.  There was a pause.  The office workers and Rhone had gone back to work.

Carls spoke to Beth, "What time does your boss get here?"  Beth pointed to a woman in the corner now talking to Rhone.  "I mean," he said in an agitated voice, "what time does Mr. Luthor get here?"  

Beth desperately looked to Rhone but she wasn't paying attention.  She stammered, "Usually about 9 or so, I think."  Beth worried; she needed this job.  Not to mention, the Luthors scared the hell out of her.  She didn't want to have to face him and explain why things weren't ready.  …At least she probably wouldn't have to see him.  Really, her boss would have to answer to him.

Rhone cast a glance in their direction a few moments later.  With her acute hearing, she heard every word.  

Lex squealed his tires as he pulled into the crowded parking lot of his office entirely too fast.  Not too surprisingly, he didn't sleep well.  By the time he drove to town and grabbed a coffee it was, -- he checked his watch, a little after 10.  If he didn't run this plant, he would have been late.  

He pulled his Porsche into a parking space at the front of the lot with the ever present squealing of tires.  He placed his car into park as he read the sign in front of his parking space, he always did.  "Reserved for Lex Luthor," was written on the sign in bold black letters.  

He grabbed his coffee and got out of the car.  While shutting the door, he noticed the shinny black car that was next to his.  He stopped and looked at it for a moment before shutting the door.  He sauntered over to the black car with a crooked smile and his coffee in his right hand.  It was a new – corvette?  He didn't even know that the new model had been released yet.  He slowly circled the car, one hand in his pocket and the other brining his coffee to his lips.  He went up and looked into the driver's side window.  Nice.  He noticed some of the dials and gauges didn't match exactly; it was a custom job.  Very nice.  

He looked around.  Who did this belong to?  He sure as hell knew that none of his employees could afford this.  He slowly backed up, still looking at the car and holding his coffee to his lips.  He turned and headed for the door of the office.  

Rhone looked around and listened for any noises.  She knew she was alone but she checked each of the doors on all of the bathroom stalls.  She was pleased that the bathrooms were clean.  Actually, they were very clean.  

Despite the cleanliness, she hated women's bathrooms.  Who needed all of those cosmetic mirrors and acres of counter space anyway?  She had never worn makeup so she never needed to spend that much time in front of a mirror.  And ever since she lost Bishop, she cared even less for mirrors.  

The last few hours had been quite -- educational.  She had to confirm the newly formed suspicions that she had about what was going on at this plant.  She had to make sure; it was her obligation.  If it was true, Lex Luthor was a man to be reckoned with in more than just business.  He was good; anyone else would have missed it.  They wouldn't know what they were looking at, only a handful of people would.  His employees didn't know, and they danced around it every day.  

She felt bad that the workers in the office with Beth would have to suffer for a little while.  She knew her co-workers would go over her head, most likely to Lex Luthor himself and cause problems.

She reached into her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.  She dialed and waited for a moment.  "Speedy Joe's Pizza Delivery," a male voice came on the line.

"D, get me Griff," Rhone replied.  

"I hope you are having as much fun as it sounds like you're having, Rhone," the male voice said.

"It just got a hell of a lot more interesting," Rhone replied.

"Need help?" D asked.

"I don't think it will come to that, at least I hope not," Rhone sighed.  There was brief scuffling on the other end.

"Rhone," a different male voice was on the line.

"Griff, I need you to dig something up.  Then I need you to meet me half way here so I can pick it up without it being noticed that I'm gone," she wasted no time.

On the other end of the line, Griffin smiled, "There is no rest for the wicked, is there?" 

"You knew that when you signed up for this line of work," she turned his comment around on him.

"Hey, I've been doing this longer than you have," he retorted.

She smiled even though no one could see her, "And I am your EX-O, go figure."

He laughed out loud this time, "What do you need?"

"Mr. Luthor, there are some people in your office waiting to see you," Lex's secretary said immediately upon seeing him.  "They are -- displeased," she finished.

The way she said it and the way she hesitated conveyed that there were some very unhappy people in his office.  He stopped and looked at her, coffee still in one hand.

"Three of the invoice verifiers are in there waiting for you," she clarified.

He thought quickly, "Just three of them?"  The secretary didn't reply, she knew her boss was just thinking out loud.  Lex had turned and started walking toward his office.  He stole a quick glance out the window to the parking lot; the custom car was gone.

Rhone pulled into the rest stop; it was virtually empty.  There was already a lone cobalt blue Viper waiting there for her.  A man with black spiky hair and wrap around sunglasses was waiting for her, leaning against the car.  He was holding a long piece of paper, rolled up and tied with a rubber band.  

Rhone got out of the car.  "You made good time," she joked.  Certain license plate numbers didn't get pulled over.  

"Even if this is what you think it is, it doesn't necessarily mean that he is doing anything wrong," Griffin stated.

"That is what we are for," Rhone started, "we have to make sure."

"How are you going to find out for sure?" Griffin asked.

"I'll ask him," Rhone replied.

"You would," he smiled.

She smiled back at him and held out her hand.  He gave her the paper.  She took out her artist's tube and started hitting some unseen buttons.  The lid popped open and she started to carefully put the paper inside.

"I'm surprised there is room for that in there," he observed.

She looked at him and shut the lid.  "I will destroy them when I am done with them," she ignored his comment.  He didn't understand why she carried it so – religiously the way she did, no one did.  She started to open her car door again and threw her tube inside.  

He was preparing to leave, "We'll keep our ears open."  He would have told her to be careful, but he didn't need to.  Not only was she always careful, she was the best.  

She nodded, "Thank you, Griff.  I always know I can count on you."  They both got into their cars and went in opposite directions.  


	5. Chapter 5

Lex leaned over his pool table and lined up his shot.  He should be working but his day at the office had been stressful.  He looked up from the shot and changed his mind.  He went to poor himself a scotch. 

When he had walked into his office, three very unhappy invoice checkers were waiting for him.  They made sure to take up an unreasonable amount of time with repetitious criticism of his staff and the way things were run at Luthor Corp.  Their supervisor was mysteriously absent, which was probably a good thing.  If they were any indication, she was probably -- the devil incarnate.  He made a note to himself to make the three of their lives uncomfortable when this little check was over.  

He strolled to his desk and looked at the folder of the supervisor one last time.  Boring.  The most interesting thing about her was that she was in the reserves.  It didn't exactly fit with the rest of her profile.  He couldn't help but wonder why she wasn't there today.  She was the supervisor; she should at least introduce her self to him.  But then it wasn't as though she had to be there.  All she had to do was sign a paper at the end to say that the job was done.  

He walked back over to the pool table and set down his drink.  He started sinking the billiards into the pockets.  

Rhone steered her car along the road.  It was getting dark.  She had spent considerable time collecting data.  She had to sneak into Plant Number Three, which for someone like her was -- nothing.  Then she collected all the invoices she needed.  She also collected data on the people that worked in the invoice office.  She analyzed data about their workloads, busy days, and the like.

She saw a few lights ahead, approximated her position, and concluded she was at Luthor Manor.  There was a security guard that regulated who entered the estate.  She stopped, rolled down her window, and held up her high level security Luthor Corp. ID one of her men had taken the liberty to fashion for her.  The guard didn't even get up; he opened the gate quickly.  As she rolled up the window, she murmured to herself:  "That's what you get when you hire your security from a Tuesday morning security guard seminar.  I hope he doesn't genuinely wonder why he has had so many problems."

The castle was big, and it was in excellent condition for its age.  Rhone saw it as the mark of a conceited man.  No, it was the mark of a lonely man.  There was a Porsche parked near the door with vanity plates.  She parked a considerable distance behind it in the parking circle.  She grabbed her tube and fiddled with the concealed buttons.  She wanted to be able to just open it without -- incident.  She got out of the car and slung it over her shoulder, grabbing her laptop as well.  

A light had turned on in the windows around the main entrance.  She went to the door and raised her hand to knock on it.  Someone was approaching; she lowered her hand.  A few moments later, the door opened and a young man was looking at her.  She remembered file photos; he was a servant.  

She smiled warmly and held out her free hand, "Good evening, Mr. Miller, I'm Rhone Chade."

He looked surprised that she knew his name.  He had never seen her before, he was pretty sure he hadn't anyway.  He shook her hand, "Hi…" No one ever did that to him.  They always just treated him like, well, a servant.  

Awkward silence.  She smiled widely, "I was wondering if this house had a good set of encyclopedias.  You see I'm going door to door."

He smiled widely in return.  He felt more at ease now, "What can I do for you, Ms. Chade?"  

"Rhone," she corrected keeping her smile.

He smiled wider, "What can I do for you, Rhone?"

"I need a favor, Mr. Miller," she stated.

"Mark," he corrected maintaining his smile as well.

            "I need a favor, Mark," she restated.

            "What is that?" he asked, waving his hand that she should come in.

            "I need to see Mr. Luthor," she said with an honest look on her face.

            He looked at her laptop case in her hand and the artist's tube she had on her shoulder.  He knew it wasn't late; Lex took guests later than this all the time.  And besides, he trusted this woman.  He didn't know why, but he did.  Maybe it was because she was nicer than all the other women that Lex had in this castle as guests.  He thought of Victoria and cringed.

            "Are you all right, Mark?" she put a hand on his shoulder.

            He smiled at her and nodded.  She returned his smile, definitely the nicest.  He started to lead the way.  She stopped him.  "Should I get the bread crumbs?" she asked.

            He smiled even more, "I think I can get us there and back safely."

            "Excellent," she said gesturing for him to lead the way.  However, she knew exactly where Lex was.  He was in his office.  Go up the stairs; take the first left, first door on the right.

            Lex had finished his game of pool and had returned to his desk after beginning a fire in the fireplace.  He was looking at some reports on the office that kept track of the invoices.  

            Knock, knock, softly came a rap from the door.

            Lex looked up and furrowed his eyebrows.  "Yes," he said in a slightly raised voice, as to be heard across the room and through the door.  The door opened a crack and Mark peaked through.  Lex looked back down at his reports.  "What?" he asked plainly.  He wasn't angry; he just wondered why Mark was here when he wasn't called for.

            Mark opened the door and stepped to the side.  He said lightly, "A Ms. Rhone Chade is here to see you, Sir."

            Lex looked up, surprised.  He watched her step through the door and quickly analyzed her image.  She was not conventionally beautiful.  She had extremely short auburn hair -- no.  It was just tied back that way.  She wore a dark pants suit that was fitted to her.  It showed off her lean body and broad shoulders.  She had a laptop case and an artist's tube.  However, the oddest things that he noticed were her shoes.  They were nice, but they were tennis shoes.  Airwalk is what they said, he had heard of them.  Why was she wearing tennis shoes?  Mostly, she had a presence about her, was it confidence?

            She thanked Mark quietly before he left the room and closed the door.  She turned and looked at Lex Luthor for the first time as she purposefully strode toward him.  He was as he looked in all of those file photos she had seen.  He was completely bald from the meteor shower.  She wondered if that bothered him or he enjoyed that regal air she thought it gave him.  It was quite becoming….  After all, Captain Picard had always been her favorite Starship Captain.  He was dressed nicely too, from what she could see from behind the desk.  The silky gray button down shirt that he wore accentuated his piercing blue eyes.  

            He leaned back in his chair slightly.  She never looked away from his eyes.  It seemed like her walk to his desk took a long time, but it only took a few seconds.  In that time he figured out that that was why she wore the tennis shoes, she walked like a guy.  He thought the silence between them odd.  She didn't.  

            She reached the desk and stood in front of it.  Immediately she lifted her hand and said, "I'm Rhone Chade."

            He realized he had forgotten himself in his analysis of her.  He stood and shook her hand, "Lex Luthor.  What brings you here, Ms. Chade?"  He offered her a seat on her side of the desk with a gesture.  For the first time she looked out of his eyes and onto his crowded desk.

            She spotted the files on his desk.  Unfortunately, hers was on top.  Maybe she wouldn't notice.  He realized she must have when she didn't sit down.  He also noticed that she had one hell of a handshake.  

            Rhone saw the file and was disappointed at how thin it was.  Maybe this guy wasn't as good as everyone said.  Too bad.  "You may call me Rhone if you wish, Mr. Luthor," she said without smiling.  Neither of them had smiled since the encounter began.  They were both very placid.  

            "You may call me Lex, Rhone," he said.  Her eyes didn't match the rest of her correctly.  They were light brown.  He didn't know what they should be, but they weren't right.  

            She narrowed her eyes, "I don't think it will come to that, Mr. Luthor."

            Lex had to admit; he didn't know what she was talking about.  She had come here for a reason, hopefully not to be rude.  But he really couldn't tell if she was being rude, she said it so plainly.  It was just a comment, like she really didn't believe that they would speak often enough to be on a first name basis.

            "Do you have a room with more -- table space, Mr. Luthor?" she asked, briefly looking at his desk.  She specifically looked in the direction of her file.

            He looked away from her to an adjacent door.  He started to walk over to it.  She was following him.  He wished she would call him Lex.  He hated being called Mr. Luthor; he wasn't his father.  

He opened the door and walked through it.  It was a room much like the last.  It was large with high ceilings.  There was a very large table in the center with a few chairs around it.  It was decently lit.  

She left Lex near the door.  She walked over to the table and began to place her laptop case onto it.  She began to unpack it without a word.  Lex found her -- he didn't know.  He could tell that his presence or her surroundings didn't make her nervous, like it did to almost everyone else.  "Would you like a drink?" he asked either to lighten the mood or to just get her to give him a hint as to why she was here or what she was doing.  

She stopped what she was doing, and turned completely around to look at him.  She said, "No thank you, Mr. Luthor."  Then she turned back to what she was doing and continued, "I would prefer to drive myself back to my hotel, instead of getting there in the trunk of your car."


	6. Chapter 6

Lex stood for a moment.  He would not allow the look on his face to betray the feeling of shock that he felt at her comment, just incase she turned around again.  How could she possibly know about that?  Suddenly, Lex regarded her much more seriously than he had.  At first, he assumed that she was just into the authority she had from this job.  He now knew that she was not what she seemed.  

He left the room and got himself a scotch.  When he returned, there were two files on the table, the artist's tube, and her computer.  She stood to the side of the table, obviously waiting for him.  Lex walked over to the table.  He started to say, "Would you mind telling me…."

"These are hard copies of some of your invoices that I found of interest," she interrupted, holding one of the folders up.  "These purchases take place at staggered dates, since you took over Plant Number Three.  Here is a graphical representation of when these purchases occurred over approximately the past year," she continued, opening a file on her computer to show him graphically.  

"I don't see your point, Rhone," he put his glass down and his hand in his pocket.

As though she didn't hear him, Rhone turned to her artist's tube and opened it.  She pulled out a long rolled up piece of paper and walked a few steps over to a clear spot on the table.  She removed the rubber band that bound the paper and put it around her wrist.  He noticed her unusual watch.  It was silver and the face was completely digitized.  Then she unrolled the paper onto the table.  "These," she began, "are the blue prints for a particle accelerator."

Lex froze.  Shit, how could she possibly know that?  How could she have figured that out from some…?

She interrupted his thoughts, "As you will notice, all of the invoices in question contain materials to build this device.  Some serve no other known purpose on this earth, except to construct this device."  

Lex stared at the blue prints.  Holy shit, who was this fucking broad?  How could she put this together?  Did she just know how to construct a particle accelerator off the top of her head?  Where did she get the blue prints anyway?  Lex's physical appearance never betrayed what he was thinking.  He looked at her and she looked at him.  What did she want from this?

He picked up his drink, "What do you want?" 

For the first time, he saw her eyes betray a second of confusion.  Hesitantly, she said, "I don't understand."

There was agitation in his voice, "What do you want; money, power, real estate, a piece of Luthor Corp.?  What do you want?"

Rhone was shocked at what he just said.  That thought had never occurred to her; he thought she was going to blackmail him.  She thought that some of that shock was translated into her mannerism because she saw a look of confusion wash over Lex's face.  

"Is this some sort of twisted sex thing?" Lex asked with a not-ruling-the-idea-as-a-bad-thing look.  She wasn't bad looking after all.  Her build and features made her exotic, like a small-breasted Amazon.  Far different than any of the other women he had ever been with.  

A look of mild disgust crossed her face as she regarded him.  The soldier in her briefly crushed all other emotions that lived in her.  She eyed her artist's tube for a split second.  She thought that she should just kill him and be done with it.  This was potentially a matter of national security.  

Then she looked at the other file that sat on the table, his file.  It was very thick, very thorough.  She remembered reading about his mother, the life he led after she had died, how he took the wrap for Club Zero, other good things among the not so good.  If Griffin ever found out, or any of her men for that matter, she would be shamed into retirement.  Could it be that her -- compassion was beating the shit out of her trained soldier emotions?  She decided not to use that folder against him.

The disgust on her face had softened into one of just seriousness.  "All I want, is for you to tell me something," she said in a monotonous voice.

He lifted up his eyebrows in a quizzical way, imploring her to continue.

She walked up to him slowly and stood about a foot in front of him.  It wasn't seductive, she didn't mean it to be; it was unnerving, she meant it to be.  He wasn't being looked at; he was being – studied.  Lex didn't like this; he was supposed to be the one that was scaring the hell out of people with his presence. 

 At the same time, she grabbed the wrist of his free hand and placed two fingers on the side of his neck.  He was shocked; no one ever touched him.  All he wanted to do was jerk away, but he also wanted to know what the hell she was doing.  Damn his curious nature.  

"Are you a terrorist?" she asked after a moment, looking into his eyes and keeping their hands in their positions.  

He looked at her unbelieving for a moment and smiled, almost laughing, "No."

She didn't move for a long moment.  She studied him, analyzed what she perceived from her eyes, hands, and ears.  She -- believed him.  Damn it.  Finally, she nodded, let go of him, and backed up to an average distance from him.  "Alright," she said lightly as she began to roll up the blue prints.  

That was it?  He just answered her question and "alright."  He was surprised when he should have been insulted, a terrorist?  He was relieved not to be under that kind of scrutiny anymore.  He noticed that she had taken the blue prints into the other room.  She returned; he turned to watch her, the blue prints were gone.  She packed the invoice folder into her laptop case.  She said, "I'll return them tomorrow."

Lex was startled by her voice amid the silence.  "I have to know," he started, "How in the hell did you ever put that together?"

"Let's just drop it," she brushed off his question, putting away her laptop.  

No one brushed off Lex Luthor.  "Who do you…" he started as he walked angrily toward her.

"Let's just drop it, because I could ask you what you are really using it for," she clarified with a sideways glance.  He stopped, because she was right.  That was definitely something he didn't want to talk about.  "Besides," she began, "there are other problems to discuss."

Lex silently thought if he was doing anything else as questionable as the particle accelerator.  "What is that?" he was almost afraid to ask, if Luthors could be frightened.

"You received a -- visit from my co-workers today?" she accented the word visit.

This was a better line of conversation.  He gestured toward a sitting area in the large room.  She grabbed her artist's tube and followed him there.  He thought it odd that she would take that and not her obviously expensive laptop.  He sat on one of the plush leather couches and set his drink in front of him.  She sat directly across from him on an identical couch and set her artist's tube on the table.  Her whole mannerism had changed after she had deemed him unthreatening to national security.  She was much more relaxed, pleasant to be around.

Lex thought back to the meeting with the three invoice checkers in his office, that's when she was probably digging up those particle accelerator plans.  God only knows how or where she got them.  "Visit is a pretty nice word for it," Lex said, relaxing slightly.  

She nodded, "I know, they're ghouls."

He was surprised at her candor.  She was relaxed where she was sitting, leaning back, sinking into the couch, legs uncrossed in front of her.  It was like watching one of those skater types make themselves at home in his castle.  She was growing on him fast, her honest nature.  It didn't seem like she was the same person that walked through his office door.  

He couldn't help but let out a crooked smile.  She returned it.  "Whatever they said to you," she began and looked around as if looking for someone else, "is untrue."

"Which part?" he asked.

"All of it," she answered.

"How do you know what they said?" he turned his head to the side.

"I don't," she said simply.  He smiled at her again.  She continued, "I don't have to, Mr. Luthor.  I know what that type of person would say.  I know how they treated me the instant they met me, and they knew that I was their supervisor."

He really looked at her, and saw her wisdom.  He leaned forward to listen to her, maybe some of it would rub off.  

She looked down at her artist's tube in contemplation and then shook her head.  "Your staff was not ready on time today and they should have been," she admitted.  

"Then that is their fault," Lex acknowledged.  

"No, it's not.  It's your fault -- indirectly," she said casually.  Lex set his drink down on the table.  "They are understaffed.  They need at least one other person in that department, probably two.  Not to mention the day we came was the day after a heavy workload period for them.  You should have been aware of that," she finished.  

"I talked to their supervisor…" Lex began.

"You are her boss, of course she told you they could do it.  Would Scotty tell Kirk that something was impossible?" she asked leaning forward.

He slightly furrowed his eyebrows at the reference.  He didn't really watch TV, but knew what she meant.  "No," he said looking at her.

"Don't get me wrong, you can't be everywhere or know everything.  And she shouldn't have given you bad data.  And you should know that everyone in that office works his or her ass off.  They deserve raises," Rhone finished.

Lex looked down, "That isn't what your friends said."  He liked the way she went to bat for people she didn't even know.

"Didn't I just tell you they're liars?" she asked with a small smile.  "And they are not my friends," she said with an emphasis on the word not.

"I'm happy I don't get to see the report they write," he leaned back resting his arms on the back of the couch.

"I can assure you, Mr. Luthor, that none of their irrelevant negative comments, like the ones they made to you today, will appear in that report," she assured.

His eyebrows perked up, "Really, and how are you going to do that?"

She smiled, "You ask that of a girl who just burned classified particle accelerator blue prints in your fireplace."

"Well -- thank you," he said.  No one had ever done anything like that without wanting something back from him.  Clark saved him, but this was business.  It was different.  "By the way," he started, "where did you get those plans?"

"Mr. Luthor, the only organization in the world that exceeds Luthor Corp. in the reaches of its tendrils is our own federal government.  I work for them.  And they asked for quite a favor when they asked me to come here," she said too much.  

"This isn't your normal job?" Lex asked casually.

"No, it isn't.  They just couldn't get anyone else to work with the people I am working with," she didn't need to lie about that.

"What do you normally do?" Lex asked, wanting to know more about her.

"A little of this, a little of that," she sidestepped the question and Lex knew it.  She was hiding something.  He made a note to look into Rhone Chade a little deeper.  "Listen, it's been nice talking to you, but I'm sure you have important things to do," Rhone said quickly as she stood.  

He got up as well, "You know it's still early, you don't have to go."  He liked talking to her, and it was nice having someone else in this castle.  In a way she gave him that altruistic feeling that Clark gave him.  She had already picked up her artist's tube and was heading toward the table to pick up her laptop case.

She turned to him.  "Some of us show up to Plant Number Three before 10 in the morning," she joked.

"Normally I'm there around 9, I just woke up late this morning," he started to explain.  Why was he explaining, no, making excuses to her?

"All the more reason that you should get your ass to bed today," she smiled and turned to leave.  "Good night, Mr. Luthor," she said slinging her tube over her left shoulder and switching her laptop to her left hand.  

He went for her laptop, "I'll help you out."

"I can show myself out," she said, but she let him take it when he insisted.

"This place is big, you could get lost," he went for her artist's tube with a crooked smile.  His smile faded when she turned fast so he couldn't reach it.

"I've got it, thank you, Mr. Luthor," Rhone said with a light smile.  She noticed his smile fade and she didn't want to offend him.  She didn't let anyone touch it if she could help it.  It was -- special to her and few things were.  She felt the urge to tell him that, but she knew better.  She started to walk out of the room.

            He followed her, carrying her laptop in his hand.  "So, you're into art," he said gesturing to the tube on her back as they started walking down the hall side by side.  

She looked at him, "Something like that."

"Would I know any of your work?" he asked.

"Obviously not," she said with a smile.  

"What kind of art do you do?" he was trying to get some non-work related information out of her.  She was obviously more interesting than her file implied.

"Probably nothing you would like.  I do very, very little fine art," she said.  She didn't want to talk about her comic books.  Associating a worldly man like Lex Luthor and comic books was actually amusing.  She could just picture him at one of the comic book or sci-fi/ fantasy/ gaming conventions she once attended.  She smiled to herself.

"What?" he asked when he saw her smiling.

"Nothing," she shook her head.

"Anyway, I would like to see some of your work," he continued.

"Maybe later," she said as Lex opened the front door of the mansion for her.  She did have a half completed rough draft back at the hotel; maybe she would bring it to work tomorrow.  No, she wouldn't; he wouldn't be interested.  

She leaned down to take her laptop from him but he made a point to start walking toward her car.  He approached the car that was not there when he had parked his.  He squinted.  It was the car from the Plant.  His eyes widened, "That's yours?"

"Yeah, why?" she asked, really not understanding how he could be interested in her car when he had -- numerous cars.  

"How did you get it? I haven't seen another one of these on the road," he said, running his hand over the curves of the flawless black.  

"And you won't," she said as she threw her artist's tube into the small back seat and reached for her laptop again.  He reluctantly handed it to her.  

"Why not?" he asked slightly angry at the implication that he may not be able to have one.

"Because," she paused, "I made it."  He raised his eyebrows.  She leaned over the driver's seat to put her laptop case into her passenger seat.  

Lex couldn't help but briefly look at her.  Nice.  "You made it?" he didn't really believe her.

"Yeah," she confirmed.  He was still looking at her.  She decided to cave in and explain, "The main body is a Corvette, but a lot of the body I chopped away and replaced with superior parts of other cars.  That goes for the mechanics too.  There are a dozen cars in there.  It was in pieces forever while I was trying figure out a way to make all of it fit together."  She shook her head at the memory of the infinite number of car parts and design drawings lying around the Mech Lab at the base.  It should not have been physically possible to make this car, but she had a way with machines and metal.

"I would love to see what it can do," he said, looking directly into her eyes.  

"Most guys would," she said half in her car.  "Good night, Mr. Luthor," she said with a smile as she got in and shut the door.

He lightly raised his hand in a gesture of goodbye.  She was interesting; he wanted her to stay.  They could talk about art or cars or not talk at all.  What the hell was that?  That was out of the question, they were from two different worlds -- and there might be a struggle to be the man of the relationship.  He smiled at that thought as he watched the taillights of her car disappear.  He tried to shake those thoughts from his head as he went back into the house, but he couldn't.  He decided to do a little more inquiring into her life before he wrestled with sleep.  At least he would have something to think about while he couldn't sleep.  


	7. Chapter 7

Rhone drove down the road and pondered what had just happened.  Lex Luthor was a nice guy -- not a terrorist, which was good.  However, she greatly enjoyed his presence.  She didn't really want to leave him there in that castle alone, nor return to her hotel room alone.  She turned up the Pink Floyd that was playing on her stereo as she thought she would like to tell him all of the things he had asked about and maybe more.  But that would be dangerous.  She had to recognize the fact that few would be able to understand what she truly was.  Even if he got past the military thing, there was -- more.  Much more.  

She chided herself for thinking that they could ever be something.  She had been alone since….  Well, she would always be alone in that way.  It didn't mean they couldn't be friends, at least for the two weeks she would be there.  

It dawned on her that this town had grown on her in only a little over a day.  She had met a lot of really great people.  Don't get attached, she warned herself.  Never get attached.  And when you leave, never look back.  She decided to train before she meditated tonight.  She needed to clear her head a little bit before she tried to focus her mind.  

The next morning Lex pulled his Aston Martin into the parking lot of the Smallville Hotel.  He pulled right up to the curb and got out.  When he entered, a man at the desk look surprised.  "Can I help you, Mr. Luthor," the man stammered.  

"Can I get the room number for Rhone Chade?" Lex asked casually.

The man looked at his watch, it was 8:00.  The man said, "I'm sorry, Mr. Luthor, Rhone left two hours ago, she isn't in her room."

Lex looked at him.  She left at 6 in the morning?  She was one hell of a worker.  Supervisor material.  Lex hadn't seen that hour of day since -- well, ever.  "Thanks," he said to the man behind the desk as he walked out.  He scanned the parking lot; he should have realized her car wasn't there.  If he ever wanted to take her out for breakfast, he was going to have to get up a lot earlier.  Maybe he would just find another way to be a nice guy.

After a brief coffee stop at the Talon, Lex parked his car in his reserved space.  Again, he was next to Rhone's car.  He admired it for a moment; amazed that she built it.  He had to at least get a ride in it before she left.  Before she left?  He didn't like the feeling he got in his chest at that thought.

He opened the door and went to his secretary; she was on the phone.  She handed him a small pile of messages.  He looked at them with his free hand.  The other held a cardboard carrier with two cups of coffee.  He could tell she was talking to a reporter of some kind because she had her head resting in one of her hands and the other was running through her hair.  She was using classic phrases like "unavailable for comment."  He was happy she stayed on the line and didn't pass it off to him.  

He went into his office and set the coffees on his desk.  He waited a few minutes and used the interoffice com to have his secretary call Rhone to his office.  He started up his computer and started reading his e-mails.  

A few minutes later, Rhone walked through the door.  "Is there a problem, Mr. Luthor?" she asked, walking toward him.  She was wearing a navy blue pants suit today.  It was the same cut as the one she wore yesterday.  He wondered if she ever wore her hair down.  He also wondered if she went anywhere without that artist's tube.

"The problem is," he began, "you keep calling me Mr. Luthor."  He gestured toward the coffee, offering it to her.  He already had his in his hand.  She looked at it with an uneasy look that he caught.  "I didn't do anything to it," he said seriously.

She smiled widely at him, "Mr. Luthor, I didn't imply that you did."  She continued, "I just don't drink coffee."  It bothered her to think that he was so defensive.  He must be accused of things all the time.  

"Oh," he replied.  Who the hell didn't drink coffee?  

"I told you I'm boring, I don't drink alcohol either," she said picking up the coffee and walking out the door.  

Where was she going?  A few minutes later she appeared without the coffee but with a bottle of water from the vending machine.  "Just so you know, your assistant likes coffee," she said when she sat down.  Lex smiled at her, she was just one of those people.  "What's on your mind?" she asked, opening her bottle of water.

Lex really hadn't thought he needed a specific purpose to call her here.  He thought coffee would be enough.  "I thought we could discuss how the invoice check was coming," he said.

"Considering I'm getting paid to just sit there, excellent," she said taking a sip of water.

He smiled again before taking a sip of his coffee.  The sunlight was streaming in the window and reflecting off of his head.  He looked beautiful.  But then, it wasn't hard for an artist to find beauty in things.  She would love to draw him, even though she couldn't do him justice.  She realized what she was doing and cleared her mind.

He was about to speak when they both heard a soft ringing.  Rhone knew what it was and instinctively reached in her pocket for her cell phone.  He saw her go to turn it off, which was quite polite, but gestured for her to take the call.  Maybe she would say something that gave him insight into her, his search last night for anything remotely personal about her was fruitless.  She was twenty-two, but it almost seemed as if she didn't exist until a few years ago.

She hit the "Talk" button and said, "Rhone Chade," into the small phone.  He had turned to his computer to check more of his e-mails, in an attempt to give her a little more privacy.  He thought it odd that she hadn't said anything since her name; she was only listening.  

Suddenly she got up, phone still to her ear.  She picked up her artist's tube and started walking toward the door, "Thanks for the coffee," she said over her shoulder.  She was out the door before he could reply.

It had been sometime since Rhone had left his office.  He was beginning to think that he should go and look for her.  He phone beeped at him, and he hit the office com button.  "Yes?" he said into it.

"Mr. Luthor," he secretary said, "a message from Ms. Chade."

His eyes perked up, "A message?"

"She phoned and said that she would return in two days."

Two days?  Who in the hell was that on the phone?  He was going to ask her over for dinner tonight, a thought that occurred to him after she walked out the door.  "Thank you," he said as he got up and walked the window.  Her black car was gone.  

The steel door to the observation room swung open.  No one in the room moved.  They all knew who it was.  In some branches of the military, they would have been expected to get up and salute.  Not this one, it was about the work.  She wanted it that way, it was more important than her ego.  She always told them that.  That was why they followed her; she had filled some pretty big shoes when Bishop was lost to them.  Besides, it's not like they actually existed anyway, so they didn't have to adhere to normal rules.  "Report," she said as she walked to the large screen at the far end of the room.  

A picture of a man with sharp features appeared on the screen with some physical appearance information scrolling underneath.  "I know all that," she said coolly, "the new stuff."  A few more images flashed onto the screen with more data.  She walked over to a man with spiky black hair facing a monitor.  "What do you think?" she said from behind him.

"I wouldn't have called for you if I didn't think that we should take him out," Griffin said, not looking away from his monitor.  "He is a threat and has proven it.  You've seen the guy's record," Griffin added.

"Agreed," she said turning.  Rhone raised her voice to address everyone, "Alright, I want Griff, D, Awol, and Thaxx with me.  We leave at 15 hundred hours.  Everyone else, you know what to do."  Most of the men got up and a few stayed seated.  They knew what was expected of them.  

"In international news, last night a chemical arms dealer known only as…" the radio said in a monotonous voice.

"What's up, Dad?" Clark asked.

Jonathon Kent held a finger up to his son and turned up the radio slightly.  The announcer continued, "…was killed and a stock pile of chemical weapons destroyed when his previously hidden warehouse off the coast of Hong Kong mysteriously exploded.  Authorities are investigating, but little remains…." Jonathon looked at Clark, the interesting news now over.

"Mom was thinking about inviting Rhone over for dinner tonight," Clark said.

A small smile crossed Jonathon's face, "I think that's a good idea."  He liked the girl, despite what Clark had said about his -- observation of her.  He and Martha discussed it and believed that they should still invite her over for dinner like they had offered.  


	8. Chapter 8

The door to the helicopter slid open and Rhone took a step out.  All of her men had congregated on the landing pad.  There was sudden clapping and cheering at her presence and those that had gone with her.  She smiled and helped her four friends out of the chopper.  They were exhausted.  She was too, but she didn't need to eat or sleep like they did.  All she could think about was getting back to her small apartment; she wondered what day it was.  

            "Hey, Lex," Clark said coming through Lex's office door slowly.

            "Hey, Clark," Lex said, looking up from his game of pool.  He had been trying to occupy his mind for the past few days.  Rhone said she would be back in two days; that was Tuesday.  It was early Saturday.  Not only that, he could find no way to contact her.  The phone number her file had to her office just rang and rang.

            "I just dropped off the produce delivery," Clark gestured behind him, even though the produce was far from being there.  He was standing rigid.  

Lex sensed that there was something else.  He set his pool cue down on the table.  "What is it, Clark?"

"This might sound a little strange, but there was this woman doing some work for you -- Rhone Chade?" he made it sound like a question.

"Of course," Lex's let a hint of worry seep into his voice.

Clark detected the worry and tilted his head smiling at Lex.  Lex ignored Clark's assumption.  There was nothing going on, after all.  "Do you -- like her?" Clark hesitated on asking.

"She's -- interesting," Lex admitted after a pause.  Clark smiled one of his wide smiles.  Lex was frustrated that Clark read him so well.  He changed the direction of conversation, "What about her?"

"Well, I haven't seen her around town since Monday," he started.  "She helped me with my chemistry," Clark felt the need to explain to Lex.  If Lex liked her, Clark didn't want him to think he was interested.  "My parents wanted to invite her over to dinner to say thanks," Clark continued.  

Lex nodded.  The Kents were inviting Rhone for dinner?  She had been in town for less than a week and already had an invitation Lex had not been able to attain in a year of valiant efforts.  If Lex hadn't met her, he would have been surprised.

"And well, when I call her cell, all I get is voice mail for the past three days," Clark summed up the situation.  

Lex looked at Clark, she gave him her cell phone number?  He walked over to his desk and sorted through her short file.  He sure as hell didn't have it.  At that moment he realized potentially how much could be missing from this file.  "…No one seems to know where she is.  It's like she disappeared," Lex said after a pause.  Or she never existed, he thought dryly.  Clark got that must save the entire world look on his face.

"So we jump off the warehouse into the water, and two minutes later, BOOM!"  Awol was regaling the rest of the team with the finer details of the mission.  Everyone was sitting in the mess hall.  Awol told stories the best, he had the faces, gestures, and voices.  When he told a story, everyone listened.  That was one of the reasons Rhone liked it when he went along.  "The whole damn place went up in flames.  Shrapnel missed my fucking head by this much," Awol held up his fingers a few centimeters apart.  

"That must have been a rush," Nix said from his place beside Awol.  Rhone smiled to herself from the back of the room.  If anyone else heard this conversation, they would put them all into an institution for the insane.

"Well, we were all pretty bummed because Rhone wasn't in the water," Awol was suddenly somber.  Rhone thought it was funny that no one looked back to her.  They all just waited for Awol to finish telling them what happened.  "She said that she wanted to make sure that he was no longer a threat before she left," he looked down.  She had taken her artist's tube with her; they all knew what that meant.  "So we swam the two miles to the 'copter rendezvous to avoid anyone that -- may have come to investigate a massive explosion," he continued.  "And when we get there, who was waiting with Thaxx?  Our fearless leader, -- it was insane!" he smiled and pointed at Rhone.  All but one turned and clapped; she always took the most dangerous missions for herself.  

"You should have seen the press on it, guys," Jazz said from his chair.  "It was so high profile, I'd be surprised if they didn't know it was coming before it happened -- vultures," he finished shaking his head.

Rhone spoke for the first time, "They didn't know, they couldn't have."  She walked to the front of the small crowd, "He sure as hell didn't," referring to the chemical arms dealer.  They all knew what she said was true.  They all stayed seated, they knew what was coming.  She sat on the edge of a table, "You all worked hard to make this happen.  You did a good job, and you all make me proud.  It is an honor to work with you -- Bishop would be proud."  She sat for a quite moment.  One person got up and left the mess hall without a word.  Everyone else sat quietly, everyone missed Bishop.  His approval meant more than anything, even though he was no longer with them.  No one blamed Rhone for it though.  Well, one person blamed her for literally everything – the one that just made the exit.

            She looked up, "What the hell are you still doing here?"  They looked up, "I know you all got paid.  I did.  There are loose women and other sins to be had in this city!  Get out there!"  They smiled and clapped again; they loved her motivational "go out and get laid" speeches.  

            They all started to get up.  Griffin came up behind her, "Will you be out this evening?"  Even though he knew the answer.  

            She smiled at him, "I'm not in the mood to get a loose woman."

            He smiled back, "You know what I mean."

            "You know I have to get back to Smallville.  I said I would be back in two days," she pointed out.  She felt a pang of guilt when she thought about it.  She didn't know why, it wasn't like they needed her there.

            "We had to wait, and you know it.  We had to wait for him to be there," Griff said as they started to walk toward their small apartments.  

            "I wasn't questioning the decision.  I made it, remember?" she asked rhetorically.  

            He nodded, "And it was the right one."  He looked at her, "You really should get some -- rest before you do anything.  And consider a shower."

            It was beginning to get dark when Rhone walked through the door to the Smallville Hotel Saturday evening.  Matt, the man behind the desk, was on the phone.  She waved at him and smiled even though she hadn't meditated in four days.  She was surprised when he made a motion to wave her over.  She gave him a questioning look when she walked over to the desk.  She waited only a moment and he hung up the phone.

            "Rhone," he began, "I was worried about you."  

            She smiled, "Thank you, Matt.  But I just had to run back to Metropolis, there was a problem at the office."

            "Other people shared my -- concern," he said as he handed her a couple of messages on hotel stationary.  

            She took them; this was new.  Each was in different handwriting.  She didn't read any of them, shoved them in her pocket, and adjusted the tube she was carrying.  The phone rang again and she gestured for Matt to pick it up after she said thank you.  The poor man had obviously been her secretary for the past few days.

            She walked over and waited for the elevator.  It occurred to her to check for any messages on her cell phone, although she doubted it.  She was riding in the elevator when her cell phone displayed text.  She squinted to make sure she was reading it right.  It read, "17 missed calls and 2 new voice messages."

            She pushed the button to hear the first message, "Hi, Rhone, this is Clark Kent -- we met at the Talon a few days ago, you helped me with my chemistry.  Umm -- my parents and I were wondering if you would like to come over for dinner tonight, if you get this message in time."  He rattled off his phone number, Rhone committed it to memory as she was opening the door to her room.  

            As she stepped inside the next message started playing.  It was the same voice, "Rhone, this is Clark again, I was just worried that I hadn't seen you around town and you hadn't returned my call.  -- My parents and I were just wondering if you were OK.  Umm -- I think Lex is worried too so you should give him a call.  Umm -- bye."  She felt that pang of guilt she felt before.  They were worried about her?  No one -- ever worried about her.  It was expected that she would survive.  And Lex was worried about her?  She hardly knew the guy, but it was nice that she had an attractive male thinking about her.  Who was she kidding; he had chicks swooning for him all the time.  Clark just said that to be nice, how would he know anyway?

            She turned on the light and sat on the bed she had never slept in.  She pulled the messages out of her pocket.  She read the first one:

Martha Kent called Friday @ 3pm

Re: Concerned

            Rhone looked at the message.  It took her a moment to realize that Martha Kent was the woman Clark had introduced to her as Mom.  She also noticed that the "Re:" had been erased several times and rewritten in.  She smiled and thought of poor Matt trying to figure out what to write.  She had the number memorized so she threw the note away.  She read the second one:

Lex Luthor called Thursday @ 1 pm

Re:  Invoices

            Each of those lines had a line through them and below it, it read:

Lex Luthor called several times

            She smiled again.  Maybe he was worried.  She threw out that message as well.  The next message was folded -- several times.  When she opened it, it was in a different handwriting.  It was small, more -- artistic.

Rhone,

Please contact me when you get this.

Lex

            She raised her eyebrows at this one.  It didn't have a date or a time.  She refolded the note and put it in her pocket.  She thought about returning the calls she had received but she seriously needed rest.  She even was willing to admit to herself that she need more than her normal 3 hours of quite contemplation.  


	9. Chapter 9

            She roused herself out of meditation at about 1 am.  She felt pretty good after about 5 hours of resting.  She knew that she didn't have to train today.  The last few days had been filled with more than enough training.  She decided to just take it easy and only stretch and run.  She could do those things where people could see her for a change.  

            But it was still a little early.  She went to her bag and took out some of her comic book supplies.  She had started to get an idea for a new story line, but she decided to finish the one she was working on first.

            The sun was coming up over the horizon as she ran down the long country road in her beige training outfit.  A part of Rhone was pleased that she didn't have to go to Plant Number Three today.  She wouldn't have to see Ben, Faith, and Jean.  And she knew that if she had to see them so soon after she did a job, she might just kill them.  It was best that it was Sunday.  

            She did decide to call the Kents.  They had a bizarre worry for someone they didn't even know.  She didn't know if she should contact Lex on a Sunday.  Maybe people that rich declared a weekly holiday or something.  

After a few moments, she decided that she required guidance on a variety of matters and should place a -- long distance call.  They had not spoken in sometime, but she always knew that she could contact her Sensei at anytime.  He supported her decision to return to the military, despite what everyone else believed.  They were trainers; they were content to never make practical application of what they were capable of.  She was a warrior, a fighter.  Both she and her Sensei knew it.  They knew it too; they just didn't want to admit it to themselves.

It was getting quite windy and it was starting to rain.  Rhone didn't mind; it was training.  She never thought of anything like that as an inconvenience, only something to be overcome, to be learned from even.  

She was just stepping onto a bridge when she heard a car coming.  She slowed down to a normal, jogging pace and went to the rightmost portion of the bridge sidewalk out of habit and courtesy.  She noticed how high the bridge was, but wasn't bothered.  The truck went by her and suddenly pulled over and halted.  She immediately stopped jogging and analyzed her surroundings just in case there was any -- unpleasantness.  

The three heads in the truck were moving.  Rhone recognized the truck after a moment and relaxed.  The doors opened and three people got out.  She started to walk over to them with a smile.  She also consciously began heavy breathing.  When she got closer she said, "Good morning, Kents.  It's great to see you again Clark, Mom, Dad."  She shook hands with John and Martha.  

Clark was already asking, "Where have you been?  We tried calling you but…"

Rhone interrupted, "There were some problems back at my office that needed my attention.  I did not mean to -- alarm anyone.  I didn't realize that you would try to call."

"We were just concerned when Clark said he hadn't seen you and…" Martha started to say.  She was giving Rhone a mothering look that she didn't really mind.  Odd.

"All the messages we left went unanswered," Jonathon finished.

"I apologize, I was quite busy.  I did not even get those messages until I returned very late last night," Rhone said with a smile again.  She turned and looked ahead of the Kent's truck and gazed.

They all followed her gaze.  There was nothing there.  Suddenly, a large branch fell from one of the surrounding trees.  They all looked back at her.  It took them a moment to realize that they might have been under that branch when it fell.  

Rhone tried to ignore that her actions betrayed a premonition.  It was just a flash really, they always were.  "I hope you weren't going home that way," she said looking in that general direction.

Jonathon started to walk over to it, "We should move it.  Someone coming up over that hill may not see it to stop in time."  He knew Clark would have no problem moving something three times the size.  "We could probably drag it," he finished, pointing to the point where the guardrail ended.  

"We should call someone," Rhone said, "It looks unsafe.  This bridge is quite high," She was an expert on unsafe after all.  She was usually the one making things unsafe or making sure someone was finding something that was unsafe.

"Nonsense," he said, "it'll only take a few minutes.  You girls get in the truck where it's warm."  They were all next to the large branch, looking at it.

If he were someone else -- Rhone knew that he was only trying to be nice, chivalrous even.  Still, you girls should get in the truck?  And besides, this was a pretty big branch, and they were going to move it alone?  

Martha began walking toward the truck, she grabbed Rhone's arm lightly.  Rhone turned and slowly started to walk toward the truck.  Clark and Jonathon began putting on heavy work gloves.  

"Mom, it is unnecessary for you to give me a ride," Rhone said.  

Martha smiled.  She was such a nice girl

"I don't mind the…" Rhone began.  

Martha was startled when Rhone stopped suddenly, turned around, and started running (the girl could run very fast) back toward the branch just as she heard Clark yell, "DAD!"  She saw Jonathon falling down the large drop off-his foot must have slipped while they were moving the branch.  

Rhone wasn't thinking.  She ran toward the railing of the bridge and jumped over it like it wasn't even there.

"RHONE!" Martha screamed, also running toward the railing of the bridge.  She could not believe the girl had just committed suicide.  

Something inside Rhone knew what she was doing.  She had never done it with a human before, but it had to be about the same.  With the ground speeding toward her she aimed one arm at the falling Jonathon and the other behind her at where she thought the railing would be.  

Liquid metal shot out of both her hands at an incredible speed.  The one aimed at the other falling figure caught his left wrist.  She willed it to solidify around the wrist and it did.  She felt the other was still speeding toward the railing.  Not too solid, she told herself.  We need to bounce or you'll rip his arm off -- like rubber almost.  Yeah.

Martha and Clark were leaning over the railing, watching.  They couldn't move; they were just hypnotized by it.  They saw one of those gray things hurling at them.  It hit the railing they were leaning over, wrapped around it, and became solid.  Clark reached out to touch it, but Martha stopped him by grabbing his hand.  

Jonathon felt something around his wrist and forearm and then he felt himself come to a stop.  It was dark.  He had closed his eyes as soon as he started falling.  He thought he had hit the bank of the river and died.  It didn't hurt.  It was more of a sudden, brief discomfort.  

Rhone felt that everything was as she planned.  Planned?  Well, no one was dead.  She willed the metal coming from her arms to slowly being to return.  She saw Jonathon coming closer and felt that she was rising as well.  Jonathon wasn't moving -- did he have a heart attack?  No, she could feel his heartbeat through the metal.  She could have retracted the extensions faster, but thought it better not to.  

Jonathon opened his eyes as he felt himself being raised.  He didn't know what to make of what he saw when he looked up.  He had never seen anything like it.  He was getting close to Rhone and couldn't help to examine this thing on his wrist.  It was like having a liquid mirror glove, but mirrors break.  This was hard, felt like it wouldn't shatter.  It was holding him in midair after all.  

Rhone was reaching the railing.  She lifted her other hand, handing Jonathon to Clark.  Rhone noticed that he helped him over the railing (by himself and with one hand), but was also lifting her up as well.  It was incredible.  

Once over the railing, Rhone returned the metal to liquid and absorbed it.  She turned to Jonathon, who was being examined by Martha and Clark.  She walked over to him and took the hand that she had grabbed him with.  They could gather that she was looking to see if it was broken.  She also looked at the adjoining shoulder to see if it was dislocated.  

"I'm -- fine," he said hesitantly.

She looked up and realized that they were all looking at her.  It dawned on her what she had done.  She took a step back as though she was going to run.  She had never been so careless before.  

"What was that?" Clark asked blatantly.

"Maybe I should ask you the same thing," they knew she was referring to Clark picking up both she and Jonathon with only one arm.  Now that she had some free mental time, she also realized that Clark moved pretty fast from the far side of the tree to the ledge.  She saw it when she was running to jump the railing.  They all looked at each other, no one wanting to move or speak.

Surprisingly, Martha broke the silence; "OK, everyone in the truck."


	10. Chapter 10

Martha and Jonathon began closing window blinds and shades.  Clark and Rhone were nonverbally instructed to sit at the dinning room table.  The two of them were seated next to one another, waiting.  Rhone was not looking forward to explaining, well, anything.  Clark didn't want to hear it for using his powers the way that he did.

There had not been a single word spoken since they were on the bridge.  If the situation had been different, Rhone would have thought the Kent farm quaint.  It was comfortable and homey.  It suited the people that lived there.  

A thought occurred to Rhone.  "How do you know Lex?" she turned to ask Clark.

Clark gave her a 1,000,000 watt smile, "He -- hit me with his car."

Rhone looked up him and smiled.  "I can see how that would breed a friendship," she nodded.

Clark chuckled.  "His car went off the bridge and I pulled him out," Clark clarified.

She nodded again, "I read about it, among many of your other exploits, which now seem more plausible."

Jonathon and Martha sat down across from them.  They looked at each other.  They obviously didn't know where to start.  

Rhone's curiosity got the best of her, "Can the two of you…?" She gestured at Clark.

"No, we don't share Clark's -- abilities," Jonathon answered.  

She was interested, "How long have you been able to…?"  She turned to Clark.

Clark looked to his parents.  Jonathon gave him a she-already-knows-anyway nod.  "All my life, at least what I can remember," Clark said.

"How did it happen?" she asked.

"Happen?" Clark didn't understand the question.

"Yeah, did you live next to a nuclear power plant or play with an X-ray machine as a child?" she attempted lighten the mood.  

They all smiled.  "No," Clark said, "I guess I was just born this way."  He looked to his father.  

"That involves a little more of a -- demonstration," Jonathon said after a moment's pause.  Rhone got the hint that she would get a demonstration after their "talk"

"What about you, Rhone?" Martha asked.

"About two years ago," she began with hesitation.  Rhone didn't know how much she should tell them.  She felt pretty safe with these people, not only because she liked and trusted them, but because they seemed to keep Clarks secret well enough.  "I was taken by a -- relic," she said.  

"Relic?" Martha asked.

Rhone put her right hand just above table, open in front of her.  It took the others around the table a moment to realize that a dark puddle was forming underneath it.  It was reflective, just like what she used to save Jonathon on the bridge.  It solidified on the table at about a two-foot radius.  Clark reached to touch it.

"Clark!" Martha said quickly.

"It's OK," Rhone said with a small smile.  Clark touched it; it felt like normal metal, but a little warmer.  Martha and Jonathon couldn't resist touching it as well.  She turned her attention back to the solidified puddle and formed it into a perfect cube without touching it, using only her mind.  

"It didn't have this form then.  It was also much smaller, less massive, than what I believe it is now," she said looking back on the day that she first saw it.  

"What did it look like then?" Clark asked.

"It was a sword," she said, "a katana, to be exact."  They could tell that she was thinking about it.  "There was an accident," she summed up an extensive story in only a few words.  She didn't like to talk about it.  It led into other areas of her life, areas that lead to the past.  They seemed interested, maybe she should write a book or something.  One day she would tell them.  When she could face it herself.  She absorbed the cube right through her skin.  Without warning, she became covered in the same substance.  It was like body armor.  They seemed shocked but adjusted to it.  The metal that had been covering her head was absorbed into the rest of the "suit" so they could continue talking without being intimidated.

"Who knows about your abilities?" Jonathon used the word he used to describe his sons powers after finally finding his voice.

"Only one man knows for sure that I have this artifact," she said.  "My Sensei knows everything," she attempted to specify.  She definitely had to make that "long distance call" now.  "You seem to have kept your secret safe," she observed.

"Besides the three of us, only one other person knows.  And we are pretty sure that it's safe with him," Martha said.

Rhone put a hand on Clark's, "Your secret is safe with me.  I know what it is like to have to hide who you are, what you are."  She turned to Jonathon and Martha, "You were right, are right, to keep this a secret.  Protect what you are at all costs."  She turned back to Clark.  

He was smiling widely at her again.  "We won't tell on you either," Clark said.  

She smiled at him.  Then she turned to the two across the table.  They were smiling and each gave a nod.  

He just kept grinning at her.  "What, Clark?" she asked.  

"I thought I was alone with my abilities for so long," he said.

Rhone smiled; she had thought she was alone too.  Even though their abilities weren't exactly similar or came from the same source, there was some sort of connection there.  One of those connections you feel with a brother or a sister.  Only it happened later in life, so you could appreciate it.  "Let's see that demonstration you promised me," she said to Jonathon.

They all got up.  They never thought they would actually take someone down to the storm cellar.  

Her eyes narrowed as she looked back to Clark, "Then -- let's test each other."

"What do you mean, test each other?" he asked.

"Let's see what we can do; strength, speed, other abilities.  We are out in the middle of nowhere," she pointed out.  

They stepped outside; the rain had stopped for now.  "It's -- in the storm cellar," Jonathon said, leading the way.  They all followed.

It was late afternoon when Rhone left the Kent farm.  She took them up on lunch instead of dinner.  But they insisted that she come for dinner another day.

She told them she preferred to run back to her hotel.  After what they had seen, they didn't doubt her.  She could run pretty fast, definitely not as fast as Clark, but fast all the same.  They had never seen another human being run that fast.  With the armor on, she was just as strong as Clark and pretty much shared his invulnerability.  Without it, however, she was just as frail as anyone else and slightly stronger than the average human man.  She had acute natural senses like seeing, smelling, and hearing.  She could also see in the dark and had a sort of weak clairvoyance that she used to know the branch would fall into the road and that Jonathon would slip and fall.  It gave her increased agility and reflexes as well.

She showed them that she could use the metal to grab onto things, like she did on the bridge.  She said it was useful when she had to get around in Metropolis in a hurry.  They didn't really understand what she meant.  They did understand that using the relic, she could climb a smooth vertical wall with no other assistance.  

She felt mildly guilty about keeping some things from the Kents.  There were certain things that were -- personal.  Things the relic had decided to change to make her a better soldier.  Things that were in her past and in her present, she should have told them about the military.  No, they were safer not knowing.  And if she couldn't tell them about the military, she sure as hell couldn't tell them the details about her Sensei.

Her feet pounded on the pavement.  She was sure there were things they neglected to tell her -- maybe not.  She was trained to expect the unexpected, never to show surprise, but when they showed her the storm cellar -- she considered herself fortunate she didn't have to ask for a change of underwear.  She didn't see that coming.  To them, she must be no less -- shocking.  She decided that when she was done at Plant Number Three she would still visit Clark when she could.  It was nice to have someone that she couldn't damage to test herself on.  Someone she couldn't cut.  


	11. Chapter 11

She was guiding her car up the driveway to the Luthor mansion.  When she came to the security guard post, she reached to flash the ID she had shown before.  The guard just looked at her car and let her in without a second glance.  With all of that money, he places his safety in the hands of that kind of security, she thought.

She had grabbed her artist's tube and her laptop and began walking to the door.  It was still light out, but she assumed someone would be home.  Before she reached the main door, it swung open.  Mark stood smiling at her.  She smiled and said, "Mark, good to see you again."

"It's good to see you again, Ms. Rhone," he said, moving aside so she could enter.  

"Just Rhone," she said smiling and touching his elbow.

She really is nice, he thought to himself.  "Mr. Luthor has," he hesitated, "left instructions for you to be allowed to see him when you arrived."

She looked at him, "He knew I was coming?"

Mark looked embarrassed, "Well, he left those instructions after you left on Monday."

She raised an eyebrow; that was the evening she came over and confronted him about the particle accelerator.  It was before she even knew she had to leave to do that chemical arms job.  

"I'll show myself up," Rhone said with a small smile.

"He is in his office," Mark said with a gesture toward the general direction of the office.

Lex had just sunk the last striped ball into the nearest pocket.  He lined up for his next shot.  There was a light knock on the door.  He didn't look up.  "Yes," he said clearly.

There was a pause, "Sir, I couldn't find the shovel."

Lex wrinkled his face but didn't move otherwise, "What shovel?"

"The one to dig the moat, you know, for around the castle?" the muffled voice said.

"Why would we need a moat?" Lex was agitated and started to walk swiftly to the door.  This servant was going to get their ass kicked.

"How else are we supposed to keep the Black Knight at bay?" the voice said in a mocking tone.

Lex reached the door and angrily whipped it open, "YOU…" Lex stopped in mid sentence.  He looked right into the wide smile of Rhone Chade.  He paused.  She was leaning against the doorframe, holding her laptop case in one hand and her artist's tube was over her left shoulder.  She was dressed much more casually than he had ever seen her.  She was wearing her "normal clothes," cargo pants and a dark fitted t-shirt.  Her hair, however, was up as usual.

"Are you going to fire me, Mr. Luthor?" Rhone laughed as she straightened as to not lean on the doorframe.  He smiled widely at her; she actually saw teeth.  "It suits you," she said more seriously.

"What suits me?  Being mocked by government employees?" he said as he gestured for her to enter his office.

"That too," she said with her back to him.  She was walking toward his desk and he followed closely.  

"What can I do for you, Rhone?" he asked, sitting behind his desk.

When he sat, she noticed the two katanas that were on a rack behind his desk.  They hadn't moved since the last time she was here.  What a waste.  If a sword could feel dishonor, they probably were.  Collecting the dust of the rich and famous instead of gleaming in the light of a battle.  She looked at him with raised eyebrows.  "The question is, Mr. Luthor, what can I do for you?" she asked.  She reached in one of her pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper.  She handed it to him.

He opened it and in his handwriting it read:

Rhone,

Please contact me when you get this.

Lex

            "You can stop calling me Mr. Luthor," he said.  He refolded it and set it on his desk.  He didn't know why he went to the Smallville Hotel or wrote that note or called -- a number of times when she didn't return.  "I was wondering if there was something wrong with the invoices, you were gone for so long," he said, looking up from the desk at her.

            She was still standing on the other side of his desk.  "If there was a problem with your invoices, Mr. Luthor, I would have come to you directly.  I think I have shown that to you through -- example," she said, dancing around the particle accelerator topic.

            He gave her a wry smile as he leaned back in his chair.  "Thank you for that," he meant what he said.  Everyone always tried to go behind his back when they had a question, avoiding him.  

He did notice that she was still calling him, Mr. Luthor.  He wanted her to stop and just call him Lex.

She got the feeling that he wanted her to talk about where she went with that "gone for so long" comment.  She didn't owe it to him, but she found herself giving an explanation anyway.  "There was a problem at my office," she said.  "Then, I had to wait for something.  You know how that goes," she said with a small wave of her hand.

"Of course," he said with a small nod.

You have no idea, she thought.

"I tried calling your office," he began, "there was no answer."

Rhone didn't betray her surprise that he had tried so -- adamantly to find her.  She lied all the time about what she was and what she really did.  "We were busy," she replied simply.  

"You don't have secretaries?" Lex asked about the oddness of the situation.

"We normally don't get calls," she answered.  She picked the note off the desk again and looked at it.  "We're pretty boring people," she elaborated.

"I don't believe that, about you anyway," he believed what he said.  He raised his eyebrows slightly.  He gestured for her to sit down.  

Rhone didn't like talking about herself.  He did that the last time she was here.  Before she met him, she thought he would be the kind of guy who only wanted to talk about himself.  Why did she think that?  When people have money, you assume things about them.  That is why she took the precautions she did.

She was tempted to sit and talk with him.  It was only 3 pm.  To make a show of it she actually checked her watch as she stealthily put the note back into her pocket.  "I would love to, Mr. Luthor, but I have to…" she smiled widely when she looked back at him, "throw some serious shit down while it's still light out." 

He looked confused at what she just said.  "…What?" he asked softly.  Maybe he didn't hear her correctly.

She continued to smile at him.  She gestured toward her clothes, "I just stopped by before I went skating.  Are you offended?"

"You look great," he said.  He thought she really did look great.  She looked comfortable and relaxed with who she was.  She always did, but she seemed to like the clothes she was in.

"That isn't what I meant," she said.  That comment made her feel -- she didn't know.  The last guy that said something like that to her wound up -- indisposed for an indefinite amount of time.  But he said it a much more coarsely than Lex had said it.  

"You should stay for dinner," he changed the subject.  

She wasn't forgetting it was early in the afternoon.  Rhone thought about eating at the local sub shop, again.  She didn't mind eating there.  She had eaten much worse but she had been getting a lot of it in the past week.  "You eat dinner this early?" she asked.

He smiled, "No, normally 5."  He saw her thinking about it.  She was living in a hotel; she was eating out every night at best.  She might be eating out of the hotel vending machines.  

"I -- couldn't bother you until then," she thought of how intrusive that would be.  

"You wouldn't be bothering me," he got up, walked to the other side of his desk, and leaned his hip against it.

She furrowed her eyebrows, "Are you going to keep me in the dungeon until then?"

"There is no dungeon," Lex said with a small laugh.

"No moat and no dungeon.  Mr. Luthor, I'm disappointed.  I've been playing D&D long enough to know that this castle is sub-par," she said with a wide grin.

He kept the smile on his face.  No one ever spoke to him the way she did.  He doubted anyone ever spoke to any Luthor the way she spoke to him.  She was always joking he knew, but most people never took the chance.  What was it about her that was different from almost everyone else?  He realized that she wasn't afraid of him.  As he came to that realization, he self-consciously ran his hand over his smooth head.  "Do you avoid every question that is asked of you?" he asked.

"Normally," she said, suddenly stoic.  

There was a pause.  He remembered the invitation that he had extended to her.  "I believe we are having Italian," he said.  Maybe she wouldn't catch that he decided for her.  She gave him a sideways glance.  She noticed.  

She loved Italian, not that she wouldn't eat anything put in front of her.  She had eaten more kinds of bugs and bizarre creatures (both cooked and raw) to not care about something like that anymore.  She set her computer case on one of the chairs that she had been offered previously.  

Lex inwardly smiled.  Victory.  He looked at her artist's tube still on her back, "Until then, why don't you show me your art."

This was a bad idea.  She never kept her art in the tube.  "I don't have any with me," she said.  He gave her a disbelieving look.  "Really," she began, "it's blank right now."  She gestured at the tube on her back, implying the "paper" inside.  "I was going to start something new when I was done skating," she finished.  She didn't know why, but it felt -- wrong lying to him.  That never happened.  No, actually that was happening a lot lately.

He didn't believe her, but the fact that she was lying didn't anger him.  He had a lot of expensive art in his house; that could be intimidating.  Maybe she just started doing it and wasn't that good.  He wouldn't mind if it sucked.  He would still tell her it was good, just for sharing it with him.  "Well, when you get something…" he started.

There was a small beep that began emanating from his desk.  He recognized it as the call transfer signal on his phone.  Out of habit, he walked over to the phone.  There weren't many people that called his house, especially on a Sunday.  Remembering he wasn't alone, he looked up at her.

She gestured for him to take the call.  He had done the same courtesy for her when they were in his office and her cell phone rang.  He sat down in his chair and picked up the phone, "Lex Luthor."  There was a brief pause as his listened.  "No, Dad," he said flatly.

That was enough for Rhone.  She knew enough about their relationship to know that she should not be in this room.  Lex was just too nice to tell her to get the hell out.  She turned and took a few steps to leave but heard a noise behind her.  She looked back and Lex was standing again, looking at her.  

He thought she was going to leave.  She looked at her computer still on the chair and then back to him.  She wouldn't just leave it at his house.  He sat back down and said into the phone, "I'm still here."  

She didn't like the tone that he had in his voice.  Something was going on.  Maybe she should make it her business -- or it was a family matter and she should stay out of it.  Her military side said to find out all that she could, Luthor Corp. wasn't the cleanest or nicest company in the country.  This could be great inside information.  But another side told her that that wasn't why she was here.  She wasn't in Smallville for military reasons.  And besides, it was Lex's personal life.  She turned again and walked out the door.


	12. Chapter 12

"Hey, Mark," Rhone walked into the kitchen of Lex Luthor's castle.  There was another man there.  He was wearing all white and a chef's hat.  The industrial style kitchen was large and had any kind of food preparation necessity that one could imagine.  

"Rhone, how did you find your way down here?" Mark asked with a smile.

Rhone knew where to go.  She had seen the blueprints of this place.  They shipped it over from Scotland piece by piece.  They certainly had to have a way to get it back together.  Her recon had also been beneficial in memorizing the layout of this place.  "Lucky guess," she returned his smile.

"This is Kevin, Mr. Luthor's personal chef," he said to introduce Rhone.  He gestured to Rhone and said to Kevin, "This is the one I was telling you about."  

Kevin smiled widely at Rhone, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

They shook hands and she explained that she had been invited to dinner.  Neither of them seemed to mind.  Rhone realized that there must be a lot of wasted food in this castle.  "Do you guys need any help?" Rhone asked, smiling politely.

"And what does that have to do with me?" Lex asked, not trying to hide the impatience in his voice.  

"I won't be in the country the first week of November and I need you to meet them here in Metropolis," Lionel Luthor said on the other end of the line.  "It's routine, Lex, just an exchange for research information," the elder Luthor said lightly.  

"And why are we exchanging information with -- who is the other party involved in this?" Lex didn't like this.  Luthor Corp. didn't need some third rate researchers that couldn't even get a grant.  

"This information could pertain to a new chemical compound that just may improve the effectiveness of fertilizer.  This could directly benefit you, Son," Lionel said smoothly.  "Or your employees," he added as an afterthought.  

Lex leaned back in his chair and thought for a moment about what his father had just said.  "What time and where?" he asked flatly.

"11 pm on the roof of the Metropolis Plaza," Lionel said briefly.

"That seems a little odd for a business transaction," Lex pointed out.

"They have something we want, Lex, just take the money there and get it," Lionel said lightly.

Lex really didn't like this.  Aside from his misgivings about the group they were dealing with, he didn't like the odd meeting place or the after hours meeting time.  It also put him on alert that his father was speaking lightly about -- anything.  "Alright," Lex was about to hang up.

"How is the invoice check going, Son?" Lionel asked.

"Fine, no problems," Lex didn't elaborate.  He and Rhone had worked out that one small problem.

Lionel gave a small chuckle on the other end of the line, "Didn't I tell you they would be some of the most boring people that you would ever meet?"

"That you did, Dad," Lex said, thinking about how wrong his father was.  It made him smile to himself.

"Since I have you on the line, I wanted to go over those fall projections for Plant Number Three," Lionel began.

Lex thought about where Rhone might be or what she might be doing alone in his mansion.  He checked his watch, 3:15.  He wanted to cut his conversation short with his father.  However, he never wanted to give his father any reason whatsoever to check up on him.  He let out a small sigh as his father began talking about the fall projections.  

Lex opened the door to yet another room.  It was empty.  He checked his watch, 4:50.  He had just gotten off the phone with his father a few moments ago and now he was looking adamantly for Rhone Chade.  She was a guest and he had ignored her for over an hour and a half.  He had really wanted to use that time to get to know her better.  She was a difficult person to get to talk about herself.  Most people only wanted to talk about themselves.  It was -- backwards.  He wondered if she was hiding anything important.  Why did he always think people were hiding things from him?  Maybe he was just paranoid.  Being a Luthor can do that to you.  

He heard faint laughing.  He followed it.  It was odd that he associated laughing with her; he had never heard her laugh.  There could be any number of people in his house at any given time.  Still, he followed the voices to the kitchen.  He hadn't been in this part of the house in -- had he ever been in this part of the house?  

He slowly opened the door but realized it was his house and just walked through it.  He looked up to see Rhone sitting on one of the counters, smiling and holding a glass of water.  She was with Mark and Kevin, having a good time despite his abandonment of her.  He looked at her for a moment and thought of his mother.  She always treated the help so nicely.  She would rather sit and talk with them than the business people his father brought home.  

It took Mark and Kevin a moment to realize he was there.  Rhone, however, heard him coming down the hall.  She just wanted to hear the end of a good kitchen mishap story.  Mark and Kevin immediately began to look busy.

"Mr. Luthor, I thought you were -- lost," she jumped down from the counter smiling.  

"I'm sorry it took so long, my father…" he began.

She held up a hand, "You don't have to explain yourself to me. Besides, I was having fun."  She was walking towards him maintaining a small smile.  Mark brushed past them with table settings.  "Hey, do you need help?" she asked as he walked by.  Lex noticed she put a hand on Mark's arm.  

"You have been more than enough help already, Rhone," Mark said with a large grin.  

"Yeah, thanks for that tip," Kevin pointed to the oven.

"Anything to spend time with men of such high caliber," she said smiling at them.

Lex was surprised that she had won them over so quickly.  But then, it didn't take her too long to win him over either, even with the whole terrorist accusation thing.  "You cook?" he asked.

"I told you, I do a little bit of everything," she took a sip of the water she was still holding.  

"That you did," Lex held the door open for her.  

She wasn't used to that.  She looked at him opening the door for her and processed it.  You shouldn't put your back so someone that you don't know.  She touched the artist's tube on her back very briefly.  He had behaved similarly when he was carrying her laptop case on Monday.  He was such a gentleman.  She walked through the door but then held it open for him.  

Lex began leading her toward the dining room.  "Do you ever take that thing off?" he asked before he knew where it was coming from.  He didn't want to offend her, he was just curious, "Not that it isn't becoming…"

She knew he was referring to her artist's tube.  "I'm not offended, Mr. Luthor," she said immediately.  "I rarely take it off," she answered.  

"Why is that?" he asked casually.

"I never know when I might need it," she said simply.  That was a candidate for the Understatement of the Year Award, she thought to herself.  

"I find it hard to believe that art supplies could ever be an absolute necessity," he said with a faint grin.

"Spoken like someone who only knows how to buy art and not make one's own," she quipped.  

Lex thought about what she said for a moment.  When was the last time he was creative or used his imagination?  He hadn't done anything remotely close to that since his mother died.  Ever since then, his time was spent on schooling or preparing to become the ultimate leader in business.  

She was aware that he had been silent for a moment.  Had what she said really affected him that much?  It was only an observation.  She had a million of them.  She opened one of the doors that he was going to walk past while engrossed in thought.

Lex looked up when she stopped.  How did she know where the dinning room was?  He followed her inside.  Mark hurried past them, back towards the kitchen.  At least Mark had enough time to stop flirting and set the table for two, he thought to himself.  

Rhone looked at the large table in the room; it had to be at least fifteen feet long.  There were chairs all around it, but places were set at the heads of it.  She began to walk over to one.  Why was Lex following her?  When they reached the chair, he stepped ahead and pulled it out for her.  Oh, she thought to herself.  "Thanks…" she said after a hesitation and sitting down.  

"Don't men do this for you all the time?" he asked as he pushed her chair toward the table.  

Yeah, but usually they don't live long enough to do anything else.  "I don't want to insult you, Mr. Luthor, but I do know how to use a chair. I can usually manage on my own," she said with a small grin.

"I'm surprised that they don't," he took her response as a "no."  His back was to her as he walked to the other end of the table.  

She caught the compliment; she didn't know how to react.  "Well, none as urbane as you," she said when he had seated himself at the other end of the table.  It wasn't a compliment she told herself.  It was just the truth.  Walking into the mess hall was like walking in on a pack of wolverines that were being fed for the first time in three months.  She was just one of the guys to them and she liked it that way.  But she didn't mind it this way either, not coming from him.  …What?

She was relieved when she heard Mark coming down the hall with a cart, presumably dinner.  She got up and walked over to open the door.

Lex wondered where she was going.  He also had analyzed her urbane comment and was pleasantly surprised when he decided it was without sarcasm.  She was standing, holding the door open.  A few seconds later, he heard Mark with the dinner cart.  Some ears, Lex thought to himself.  

"Rhone, please, you have been more than enough help already," Mark said with a laugh.  Mark gestured for Rhone to sit in her seat once more.  He pulled out her chair for her and took her hand as he guided her into the seat.  Then Mark began serving dinner.

Lex watched Mark seat Rhone without changing his expression.  He wondered if Mark could be that smooth while standing in the unemployment line.  

Mark served Rhone first.  When he was finished she caught his elbow and pulled him closer to her.  She spoke so Lex couldn't hear, "It looks wonderful, Mark.  Please tell Kevin thank you, incase I don't see him.  …And Mark," she began still quiet, "am I really supposed to sit all the way over here?"

Mark smiled.  He hoped Lex Luthor would be smart enough to keep her around for -- a long time.  "There are plenty of chairs," Mark replied just as softly with a grin.  Mark walked over to Lex and served him.  He thought about conveniently forgetting something so he could check on the seating arrangement later.  But when he saw the look on his employer's face and thought better of it.  He exited the room quickly.

Lex wondered what they were talking about over there.  He quietly began to eat.  He looked up in a moment when he heard her stand.  "Is there something wrong?" he asked puzzled.

"Yeah," she said picking up her plate, utensils, and glass of water.  

"Do you need…" he began.

She walked towards him and set her place right next to him.  "I was worried I was going to have to set your dining set on fire and send you smoke signals if we needed to communicate," she said with a raised eyebrow.

He smiled at her.  The few people that he had eaten dinner alone with always sat opposite him, regardless of how far away it was.  But then, they never spoke either.  He should ask her to come over tomorrow.  

"I had to ask Mark if it was proper dinning etiquette to destroy the symmetry of a table," she continued.  She finally began to eat.  

"You didn't have to ask if it was alright to sit next to me," Lex was still smiling at her.  "Everyone usually just…" he began.

She stopped eating, looked him in the eyes, and said, "I'm not everyone."  

I know, he thought to himself.  They slowly ate as they talked.  Lex had never talked over a meal before.  At business dinners there were networking and typical dealings, but there was never just talking.

"What do you do around here all day?" she asked.

It was a simple question.  "Usually I go to the Plant around…" he started.

She held up a hand as though she were physically stopping his words.  Then she gave him a sideways grin, "I know that, not that it isn't fascinating.  A better way to put it would be, what are your hobbies?"  That was something that her extensive file on him was lacking.  

No one had ever asked him that before.  No one cared.  Clark would care if they got to spend more time together.  Yeah, they were friends.  

She noticed a brief pause, "Please don't tell me you have to go in another room and check a file or something to find out what your hobbies are."

He grinned at her, "Billiards, fencing, collecting art."  He thought about mentioning his comic book collection but that is something you say if you need to impress a thirteen-year-old boy, not a woman.  Was he trying to impress her?  She nodded in response.  She was really listening to him.

"What else?" she said furrowing her brow at him.

"What do you mean?  That was three.  That's more than I know about you," he pointed out with a smirk.

"It just seemed like you were holding something back," she observed.  

He thought he was good at reading people until he met her.  "What about you?" he asked, genuinely interested in the answer.  

Explosions, implosions, saving the world, vigilante justice, guns, knives, swords, kicking people in the head, jumping out of planes and helicopters, eating raw bugs, testing out my superhuman abilities, seeing how long I can last without sleeping….  "Art," she said simply.

"I know that one," he said.  "And I would still like to see your work," he added in a prodding tone.

"I really don't think that it would be something you would be interested in," she said simply.  "It isn't fine art," she concluded.

"You mentioned that before.  In either case, I would still like to see it," he said.  "What else?" he said after a moment.  "I gave you three," he said and realized how childish it sounded.  

She grinned at him, "Skating."

"Like in-line skating?" he needed clarification.

She got a mock serious look on her face, "No, not like in-line skating.  Talking to a skateboarder like that could land you in a cast."  Her grin returned.  

"Skateboarding," he understood her very casual dress.  "Isn't that a little…"?

"80's?" she finished his question.

"Yeah," he had a small smile on his face.

"Isn't fencing a little 3 Musketeers?" she smiled at him again.  

He saw her point and chuckled.  

She just watched him laugh.  Granted, it wasn't an all out laugh, but he seemed to need it so much.  He looked at her.

"I suppose you want the last one to be something you didn't know about, I kind of cheated on the first two," she admitted.  He already knew about art and she had mentioned skating to him before.  He nodded and leaned toward her slightly.  She moved her empty plate to the side.  She leaned in slightly and looked around as if someone else might hear, "Mystery Science Theater 3000."

He continued to look at her for a moment.  That didn't even make sense.  He shook his head very slightly, "What?"  Maybe he didn't hear correctly.

"Mystery Science Theater 3000, the greatest television show ever made," she said leaning back again.  

"Television is not a hobby," Lex said matter-of-factly.

"Then neither is taking someone else's hobby and hanging it on your wall," she said, she had had similar conversations before.  "Listen, Mr. Luthor, I know that you probably don't watch a lot of television-I haven't seen one in this museum-but you really shouldn't judge something solely on how it reaches you," she said.  She wasn't angry, just stating what she thought.  

Lex nodded at this simplified but accurate description of his judgment.  

"I will agree, that most television is a waste of time," she conceded.  "I have a few episodes on my laptop.  If you want, I could burn them to a CD," she said after a moment.  

"Why don't we just watch them tonight?" he suggested.

"The episodes are pretty long and I have to work tomorrow," she said emphasizing the word "I."

"It's too early for that excuse to work," he pointed out.

"Why don't you show me some of your art collection?" she suggested.  He was still looking at her.  She knew what he wanted.  "Depending on how long it takes, maybe we'll watch an episode or two," she added.  Did she just cave?  Yeah. 

She was just having a good time.  It was either that or return to the hotel and do nothing until it was time to meditate and train.  That sounds a lot like rationalizing, she thought to herself.  

They both stood and she began to stack their plates and silverware.  "What are you doing?" Lex asked, genuinely wondering.

Rhone didn't understand.  He didn't even clear his own plate for god's sake?  "Before the roaches get at it," she said watching what she was doing.  

He gave her a small smile, "Mark will do it."  That didn't stop her.  "It's his job," he clarified.  She gave him a disapproving look.  Well, it is Mark's job, he thought to himself.  

Rhone realized that she was being judgmental.  Lex had been raised a certain way and that was what he knew.  She wondered if she was being any different than the people who judged him by his last name.  If she did Mark's job for him, then he wouldn't have a job, would he?  It still felt wrong.  Her hands fell to her sides.  "I'm just not used to…" she started.  

He knew what she meant.  From what he knew she came from a middle-class family and lived alone.  Most people never had someone to wait on them.  He glanced at the neatly stacked dishes and smiled.  She gestured for him to lead the way.  He started walking with her at his side.  


	13. Chapter 13

He resisted the urge to take her hand and lead her.  He didn't know if their relationship was at that point, if she would allow it.  One minute she seemed like the touchy feely type and the next she was dodging potential contact.  He had seen her touch Mark -- twice.  And Mark had taken her hand to guide her into her seat.  Did she just dodge him?  She had only touched him once and she asked him if he was a terrorist.  But the way she was in his personal space and looked into his eyes like she was searching… Then she let go as though nothing had happened.  

"Rhone?" he didn't even realize he was saying it.  She looked at him as they walked.  "The night we met, when you took my hand…" he had hardly said anything but he saw her jerk when he said she "took his hand."

"I was monitoring your pulse," she corrected him.  

"Why would you do that?" he asked.  That was unexpected.  

"To determine if you were lying to me.  I monitored your heart rate, pupil dilation, the number of times you blinked, respiration, and other autonomic and controlled physical reactions to my question," her voice had gotten eerily flat.  

He stopped in front of the first room that held a few paintings and looked at her for a moment, "Who are you, really?"

"Rhone Chade," she said evenly, looking him in the eye.  It was just a name.  She had gone by it for a long time.  It was the truth to her now.

"You," he said after a moment, "Are not what you seem."

"In my experience, Mr. Luthor, no one is.  Yourself included," she said lightly.  Maybe she should have just lied and said she was holding his hand, even though she clearly had his wrist.  She was actually taking his pulse at the time.  

"What about me is so misleading?" he asked in response to her statement.  

"Everyone says that you're intimidating," she said as a smirk crossed her face.  He perked an eyebrow at her.  "And you're not," she added.

"Was that a compliment?" he asked, really not sure if it was.

"That would depend on you, Mr. Luthor, what are you going for?" she said innocently.

Damn her and her self-analytical questions.  He didn't know what he was "going for."  People usually just judged him on the fact that he was a Luthor and that was it.  He acted the way he was expected to.  "Recent events have inspired me to 'go for' urbane," he said, pleasantly recalling her comment in the dining room.

I should have never said that, Rhone chided herself.  Let your guard down for one second, and look at what happens.  "Why go for something that you already have, Mr. Luthor?" she asked.  She turned into the room that they were standing in front of, "You don't seem like the type to waste time."

Her back was to him so he took the liberty of looking her up and down.  Normally, I don't waste time, he thought.  He walked up behind her and gestured toward a monochromatic painting on the wall.  They both began to walk over to it.  "I was at an art show in Gotham when I picked this one up," he said.  

She looked at it thoughtfully as she stood in front of it for a moment.  She nodded, "It has balance without symmetry."  

He nodded with her.  That is what he liked about it too, well, that and…

"But I think this part of it right here," she gestured to a small portion of the painting, "is – expressive -- beautiful."

He quickly stole a glance at her.  Whoa, he thought.  They contemplated it silently for a moment.  Finally, they silently agreed to move to the next painting.  

Rhone gave the other paintings in the room a brief glance.  She noticed one in the corner wasn't a painting.  It was -- hello.  She silently fell behind Lex and began walking towards to object of her attention.  

"I believe the texture in this one compliments the…." Lex's voice trailed off when he looked next to him and realized he was alone.  He almost did a complete turn on his heels.  He spotted her in the opposite corner of the room, looking at his – oh, man.  "I used to collect them -- when I was a kid," he started to explain quickly as he walked up beside her.  

"Now this…" she said, slightly outstretching her hands toward it.  She then paused as she looked at it.

He prepared himself for a sarcastic taunt.  Why did he leave his framed copy of Warrior Angel #1 in this room?  He should have gone to another room.  Who would have thought that she would even notice a framed comic book?  He had been mocked for it before.  He mentally shook Victoria's comments from his head.  He shoved his hands in his pockets and gazed at a spot between the wall and the floor.

"Is art," she finished.

His eyes were wide as he snapped his head to look at her.  She didn't look back at him, only continued to look at the collector's comic.  

"It's too bad," she said finally.

"What is?" he asked still in a mild state of shock -- for a Luthor, that is.  She thought comic books were art.  That was better than, well, any of the women he knew.  

"That you don't collect anymore.  The vintage stuff is the best.  But I like where it's starting to go now.  It was a little campy for a while there," she took another step towards it.  

"You read Warrior Angel?" he was still staring at her.  She was just -- awesome.  He never thought he could actually have things in common with a woman.  Usually it was just a business arrangement or casual sex.  

"Among others.  Before I got this job, I used to work in a comic book shop.  Well, they had a lot of nerd supplies, not just comics.  So, I never really collected.  It was great.  I would just read them as they came in…." her voice trailed off.  She finally looked at him with a faint smile of remembrance, thinking of her old life.  Her work history was a little more complicated than that, but she didn't see the need to elaborate.

He smiled at her "nerd supplies" comment, but his smile began to widen when he realized that she was sharing a part of herself with him.  "What other comics do you read?" he asked lightly.

"The usual, I guess.  And some stuff that you wouldn't know," she said, looking back at the comic book that had began the conversation.

"Try me," he said as he walked up behind her.  He stopped near her and was looking at the comic as well.

"Underground comics that get away from the cliché superhero.  Sometimes there are science fiction and fantasy elements and sometimes there aren't, but the characters themselves are more real," she explained.  "Right and wrong aren't as clear-cut as some of those mass produced books would want you to believe," she concluded.

He had pretty much only been exposed to Warrior Angel and a few other well-known comic books.  He couldn't exactly go to a comic book store and peruse; he had a recognizable face -- head.  And he had an image to maintain.  "They sound interesting," he commented.  

She narrowed her eyes and smiled, "Well, to someone who still collected them it might be."

God, she was good.  He slowly returned her smile.  He watched her cross her arms over her chest and coolly gestured with her head toward the door.  

"Show me," was all she said.  

If he were any other man, he would have grabbed her hand, spun around, and drug her down the halls of his castle to where he kept his collection.  But, he was Lex Luthor.  He turned to the door and strolled toward it with her at his side.  

They walked down a short hallway in silence and came to a door.  Lex opened the door and gestured for her to enter.  She entered the room and hid her shock.  She acted casual as she walked over to one of the many shelves that lined the walls.  There must have been a couple thousand comic books in this room.  Rich people don't usually do anything small, she told herself.  When it came to important things, she didn't either.  

She gestured toward one of the shelves and he nodded.  She started to look through them.  

Lex was stealing glances at her as he pretended to organize the shelves.  She looked content just gliding her fingers over the plastic covers that contained the comic books as she read what they were.  He couldn't help but get the feeling that she was looking for something.

"Can I share something with you?" she asked, not bothering to look at him.  

He stopped and looked at her, eyebrows raised in a silent "yes."  She glanced at him for a second and continued what she was doing.

"When I was a girl, I dreamed of having a friend like you," she said as she stopped looking through the comics and glanced up at him again.  

He smiled widely when she said the words "friend like you."  He couldn't help but walk toward her with what she had just said.  "What kind of friend is that?" he asked softly.

"A rich one to buy all the comic books I could ever want," she said with a wicked smile.

Not exactly what he was hoping for.  "Oh," was his flat response as he leaned against the nearest of the shelves.

She thought she had offended him with the "a rich one" remark.  "I was only joking, you're good for meals too," she said teasingly with a wide smile.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  He couldn't help but give her a small smile back.  

She had an idea.  She could tell that he was -- some type of moderately upset.  He hid a lot of his emotions, but she was trained to read people.  She held up one finger as if to tell him to hold on.  She walked past him and out the door.  She couldn't believe that she was doing this.

She had never meant to get to know Lex Luthor, but she had just called him her friend.  Her friends were all back on the base, or were they?  She never trusted civilians like that.  But didn't she just spend the morning with the Kents?  People who knew so much about her, things she was never going to tell anyone.  Even though she had told Lex relatively little about herself, it had been more than she had just told anyone in a long time.  She also felt this strange desire to -- not lie.  This is dangerous, she thought as she walked down the hallway.  


	14. Chapter 14

Where is she going?  Lex wondered as he picked up one of his favorite issues of Warrior Angel off the shelf.  Did she do things like this all the time?  He wasn't normally the type of guy that liked surprises.  

But then, he hadn't been acting very normal since he met her.  It was just so comforting having someone that he had things in common with.  He was relaxed when she was there.  She was funny, smart, kind, honest, wise, independent -- beautiful.  When did she become beautiful?  

He had taken her comment a little too seriously.  What did he expect her to say?  …What did he want her to say?  He paused at that question, disturbed.  They hadn't even known each other a week.  He sat on one of the long plush couches in the middle of the room and put his feet up on the small table in front of him.  He was never remotely angry with her; he just wanted her to -- to what?  

Rhone was looking through some of the things in her trunk and putting a few of them to the side.  She realized that she had more things in there than she should.  She had kind of made it her goal to own as few things as possible, or at least be attached to as few things as possible.  

The greatest enemy is the one with nothing to lose.  She touched the artist's tube that had been on her back the entire evening.  She knew she didn't need it with him.  What?  You always need it, she told herself.  I thought I wasn't supposed to need anything…

She walked to the passenger's seat of her car and put the tube inside.  She shut the door quickly as to not change her mind.  

She walked back to her open trunk.  She picked up a square portfolio that was about two feet across.  She had put all the things she needed for the stage of comic book production she was on in it.  She slung it around her shoulder.  She always liked the way it felt, lighter.  Rhone grabbed a stack of comic books she had gathered before she shut the trunk.

Rhone silently walked through the door and stopped.  She paused and looked at Lex for a moment.  He hadn't noticed that she had returned.  She was trained to be stealthy after all.  

The dark brown couch he was sitting on made him look even more pale than usual.  He had his feet up on a short table in front of him.  That must his be his idea of relaxation, elevating your feet.  His right arm was resting on the arm of the couch, supporting the hand he had on his chin in a thoughtful position.  

His left hand was holding a Warrior Angel comic book.  The comic book was tilted slightly away from him.  He wasn't reading it.  He was thinking about something.  Rhone took a silent step back when she realized she was thinking about something as well…  She wondered if anyone ever told him he was beautiful.  

What was she thinking?  It was impossible -- they were impossible.  She had thought about it before and she knew that they were from two different worlds.  Not that he would ever be interested.  He was witty, sophisticated, intelligent, secretly caring, graceful, and gorgeous…  They hardly knew each other.  Not to mention she was -- not normal and she certainly couldn't tell him the truth.

She quietly walked over to him, portfolio over her shoulder and holding the stack of comic books.  She walked right next to his legs, between the couch and the table.  She watched him come back to reality.  He looked up at her, "I didn't hear you come back."  He noticed that her artist's tube was gone and now she had a portfolio.  He smiled slightly.  

She reached for the top of the comic book he was holding and lightly pulled it out of his hand.  His smile widened.  

She closed the comic and looked at it.  Then she looked at Lex and lightly tossed the Warrior Angel comic book onto the table.  She held out her stack of comic books inches from his hand.  She set her portfolio on the table next to the discarded Warrior Angel.  

He took the stack of comics out of her hand, still looking at her.  She turned and walked over to the shelves and resumed looking for whatever it was she was looking for.  He looked in his hand and started to flip through the comic books.  They looked professional.  "I always thought that underground comics were scribbled on sleazy bar napkins," he said as he was looking through them a second time.  

"Well, then, Mr. Luthor, you thought wrong," she looked at him with a smirk.  "Cheap technology has greatly influenced the publishing world," she continued.  He returned her smirk and looked down again.  

She noticed he was putting them in some kind of order.  She had given him a small, unfinished series of three and about five or six single books.  He must be separating and putting the series in order.  

His inquisitive nature got the best of him, "What are you looking for?"

"I…" she said with a pause, "am looking for anything with a heroine." 

"You won't find any," Lex said immediately.

She turned to face him, "And why is that?"

"I don't own any," he said looking down at the comic books in his hand.

She nodded.  "You don't think that a woman can be hero?" she asked as she picked a comic off the shelf and began to walk toward the couch he was on.  

He sensed something in her voice.  She wasn't looking for an argument about gender equality; she genuinely wanted to know.  The only two women he ever trusted or loved failed him.  All the other women he had ever been involved with were either gold diggers or power hungry.  They used him -- not that he didn't use them in return.  It was usually a symbiotic relationship that he often initiated.  However, it didn't help his opinion of women on the whole.  "I never said that," he said.


	15. Chapter 15

She sat down on the other side of the couch.  She was about four feet from him and he wondered why she sat as far away from him as possible.  Then he realized there were three other couches that she could have sat on.  

She opened the comic she had picked up off the shelf, a Spiderman.  Unconsciously, she slipped off her shoes and brought her legs up to her chest.  She knew he was looking at her.  She glanced at him, "Sorry."  She put her feet back on the floor.

He had never seen a woman sit like that before.  They were always trying to be sexy or elegant.  Actually, no one in his business driven world sat that way.  She was so natural.  "No, go ahead.  It's alright, really," he said with a smile and a small hand gesture.  

She resumed her position and started reading.  Actually, she had read this one before, but she liked the art in it as well as some of the more -- technical aspects.  She was examining it.  

Lex started reading the comics she had given him.  Occasionally, she would get up and shelve the comic she was reading and get another one.  Then she would sit down in an odd position and bring a smile to Lex's face.  She was comfortable around him -- had that ever happened before with anyone besides his mother?  Her legs were stretched out on the couch now, but not touching him.  He resisted the urge to reach across the now small couch distance and touch her feet.  

He was thoroughly enjoying the comic books that she had given him.  They were drawn wonderfully, had dynamic characters, and a lot of plot.  Some definitely more than others, but they were all good.  They were different than what he was used to, however.  She wasn't kidding when she said right and wrong were not very clear-cut.  

She was monitoring him.  She wondered why he would look at her for no reason.  He must not like them, she thought.  At least he was nice enough to fain interest for so long.  She saw he was finishing the last book, so she got up and returned what she was reading to the shelf.  It was getting late -- well, getting really early.  

He set the last book down on the pile he had made with the others.  "Interesting," he said after a moment, breaking the long silence that had passed between them.  

They both realized that they didn't mind the silence.  They were comfortable with it.  Rhone was quite accustomed to awkward silence, but that wasn't what this was.  It was more of a quiet time.  Conversation wasn't compulsory.  

"That bad, huh?" she asked as she picked up the copy of Warrior Angel that she had previously taken from Lex's hand and moved to put it away as well.

"Actually, I thought they were quite good," he said.

She looked at him quickly and walked back over to him, "Really?"

"Well, some were better than others," he said as he fanned out the pile of comic books on the table before him.  "The series you gave me and this one," he pointed to a single comic book.  He looked at the covers more closely, "The best ones are all made by the same company – Tainted Mirage Comics."

She sat on the couch cushion adjacent to his.  "What do you like about them?  Why do you like them more?" she asked, looking at him and leaning forward.

Lex paged through the Tainted Mirage Comics comic books and pointed out the things that he thought made them better than the others.  She listened and nodded.

"What don't you like about them?" she asked.  

Lex thought that an odd question.  "These bother me because there are only three.  There are obviously more," he said pointing to the series.  

"Do the strong heroines turn you off at all?" she asked.

Lex smiled, "This is beginning to sound like a market research survey."

"Only because you're giving constructive feedback," she said deliberately not looking at him.

He tilted his head as he looked at her and narrowed his eyes slightly.  The gears were turning in his head.  She didn't have to look at him to know it.  He was one of those people that rarely let anything by him, and he liked to know everything he could about anything.  

She knew he wasn't fooled, "I know the people at Tainted Mirage Comics.  They would be -- elated to know that someone of your stature enjoyed their work."  He was still looking at her, "And as an art collector and established reader, they would value your opinions.  Not to mention, being my friend speaks highly of you."  She looked at him in a matter-of-fact way.  

"So," he said after a brief pause.  "What do I have to do for the good people at Tainted Mirage Comics to get the rest of this series?" he asked a little too lightly as he gestured to the series of three comic books on the table.

Shit, she thought to herself.  "I would try getting out my inflated check book and preparing to write a lot of zeros," she said as she smiled at him widely.  

He was always amused when she made fun of him for being wealthy.  Yet she never mentioned him being -- freakishly bald.  He thought that he saw her looking at his head a few times, but it was understandable.  He actually wanted to know what she was thinking about in those moments.  -- She treated him like he was a normal guy and he liked it.

He tried to give her a look of annoyance, but he smiled through it.  He imagined that is wasn't very effective.

Before he could reply with something witty, she spoke again.  "Or," she began, "You could ask the whole company to reach over to that portfolio over there and get the other three that are completed."

"You're the whole company?" he asked, not bothering to hide that he was impressed.  

"It's not a real company, Mr. Luthor, just a name.  I think the definition of the word company implies that there is more than one person," she said.

He rephrased the question, "You do everything?"

She broke eye contact and reached for the portfolio on the table.  "Start to finish," she said.  Unexpectedly she added, "It's getting late."  Not that it mattered to her; she could go without rest for quite sometime.  Especially after the long meditation she had had the night before.  She knew that she sometimes forgot that other people didn't exactly function like her.  

"Are you tired?" he asked.  He forgot that not everyone on earth suffered from horrible insomnia.

She wanted to laugh at that.  No one ever asked her if she was tired, no one cared.  She met his gaze again, "I've had D&D sessions that put this little comic book chat to shame."

That must be her way of saying no, he thought.  He felt tired, but knew he wouldn't sleep.  He never did, not enough to really rest.  Not to mention he had plenty of practice at partying until 6 am.  He shook his head, "What the hell is D&D?"  He had wanted to ask since she had mentioned it previously.  

She opened the portfolio without looking at it.  She was looking at him, trying to discern if he was being facetious.  He -- wasn't.  "You're kidding?" she asked.

"I asked, didn't I?" he said still looking at her.

Poor man.  "It just seems strange that a man with a comic book collection the size of the Library of Congress has never even heard of D&D," she said as she fished through the portfolio and grabbed the three comic books she was looking for.  "It's a role playing game," she said.  "It is the role playing game on which all others were forged," she added.

Should he tell her he had never heard of a role playing game?  He didn't like not knowing things and it was worse because he liked knowing things that were important to her.  When did that happen?

She saw it.  She knew he had no idea what she just said.  "How do you go to comic book shops and remain uninitiated into loser culture?" she asked.  She was actually a little confused.  Sci-fi/ fantasy/ role playing/ comic book people were usually pretty versed in the finer points of each area of loser-dom.  They were the best people to hang out with.  Realization slowly crept over her, "Oh, man."

"What?" he asked.

She leaned over and smelled him quietly.  That's right, she smelled him.  He didn't know how to react to that.  It was a first for him.  He watched to see if she touched him -- she didn't.  He was a little disappointed and weirded-out at the same time.  

He couldn't place what she smelled like.  Her bizarre action brought it to his attention.  She didn't smell like a woman, at least not any that he had been that close to.  She didn't smell like perfume or flowers or fruit…

He smelled like the crest of a mountain right after a fresh snow -- before you shoot a guy execution style and throw him over the edge.  "You get your comic books in the mail, don't you?" she said with a semi-worried look on her face as she pulled away.  He didn't smell at all like a man associated with the comic arts.  He was actually the best smelling man she had ever been near -- ever.  She had to fight not to lean over and smell him again.  

"So?" he still didn't see where she was going with this.

She shook her head and decided that it wasn't that odd.  He was a busy guy.  And his collection more than proved he wasn't just some guy that liked to keep vintage comic books out of the hands of the masses.  He read them and shouldn't be judged so harshly.

"D&D is a specific role playing game.  People act out characters that they create according to the parameters of that character.  They have adventures and get more powerful as the game goes on.  You roll dice to determine outcomes in things like battles or achieving certain tasks.  It relies heavily on imagination," she said.  "It's hard to sum up something with three core books of a couple hundred pages in just a few sentences," she conceded.  

Lex just shook his head.  "You would have to show me," he said.  Imagination?  He was in trouble.  "Tomorrow after dinner?" he added quickly.

"I didn't bring any of my stuff with me," she was telling the truth.  "I haven't played in -- a long time," she said.  "Not since I worked at the comic book store," she added.  She didn't realize how much she missed it until today.  She shook her head and handed Lex the comic books she was still holding.  "Not to mention, you need at least four or five people," she said as she slid down to sit on the floor.  

Lex watched her looking through her portfolio again.  She pulled out a notebook, another large pad of paper, some pencils, an ink well, and a small tin case.  She knew he was watching her.  She looked at the notebook and started reading it.  Then she used a pencil to lightly start sketching something on the other pad of paper.  Lex watched her for a moment and then began to read the comic books that she had handed him.  He noticed the comfortable silence that had settled between them once more and smiled inwardly.   

He looked up when he heard her open the tin she had gotten out.  The tin had some ink pens with accessories in it and she opened the ink well.  He smiled again at her even though she never looked up.  He thought it was amusing the way she was sitting on his floor, working over the short table.  Lex went back to reading.  These were some of the best comic books he had ever read.  They were -- riveting, intense, and believable.

As Lex finally finished reading, he noticed that she was packing up her things.  "Leaving so soon?" he asked causally.

She slowly turned to him as she picked up the last of her things.  She smiled coyly at him, and pointed to her watch.  "Some of us have to go to work," she said almost laughing.  

This room was a dark room, very little sun.  He didn't realize it was 5 am.  He got up and his tired body protested.  He didn't realized how much his restless sleeps actually helped him.  It was noticeable in his movements and around his eyes.  He thought it odd that she showed none of his tired symptoms.  She looked just as she did when she walked through his office door yesterday afternoon.  

"I would say 'see you in an hour," she interrupted his analysis of her condition.  "But we both know that that is a little -- unrealistic," she finished, still smiling.  He smiled back as she made fun of him for showing up to work when he saw fit.  She went for the comic books that she had brought over.

"Can I keep those for a few days?" he requested suddenly.

She stopped in mid motion and looked at him with a puzzled expression.  "Sure, I don't see why not," she conceded.  She really didn't know what he would want with them.  Maybe he was actually interested in rereading them.  It was a nice thought.

He sifted through them and handed her the ones that she didn't make.  "They were good, just not as good as yours," he explained with a smirk.

It had been a long time since she felt the urge to hug someone.  Instead she took the few comics he handed to her and said, "Thanks for dinner."  She turned and walked out.  


	16. Chapter 16

Rhone pulled into the parking lot of Plant Number Three.  She was the second one there, again.  The only other one who showed up at 6 a.m. was Gabe Sullivan.  That guy loved this place a little too much she decided.  He was nice enough; maybe he felt this job made him important.  At least he unlocked the door so she didn't have to use an – alternate means of entry.  

She debated parking in the space marked "Reserved for Lex Luthor" but thought better of it.  He might not find something like that amusing, no matter how much she would.  She couldn't help but imagine an image of him angrily walking from the back of the large parking lot.  She parked next to the space, where she normally did.  She considered him a friend after all – and he said that he liked her comic books.

Lex walked into his home office still weary despite the nap, shower, and breakfast -- more like brunch.  He knew that he should get to the plant but had some other things to do first.  

He sat down at his desk and wearily rubbed his hand over his head.  He wondered if Rhone would come over for dinner tonight.  He had asked, but she had somehow sidestepped giving him an answer.  And he allowed her to, damn it.  He would have to catch her at the plant when he finally got around to getting there.  Why did she have to be so guarded? 

He had a great time last night.  It was the most fun he had had in -- a really long time.  And they didn't even do anything, just sat around talking and reading comic books.  He was pondering her effects on him when he realized that he was staring at the chairs on the other side of his desk.  One of those chairs had a laptop case on it -- a large smile curled its way across his lips.  She had forgotten it.  

He gazed at the stack of comic books he had asked her to leave.  He picked up the phone and said, "Get me the number to my father's printing company."

Lex guided his Lamborghini into his reserved space.  He shook his head as he parked.  "How in the hell does she get here so early?" he asked aloud, looking at her black custom sports car.  He paused and looked at it for a moment thinking that he wanted to see what it was capable of.  He snapped out of this thought when he gazed down at the clock on his stereo and it read 11:20.  

"Call Rhone Chade to my office," he said as he walked by his secretary.  It was almost time for lunch.  

He was at his door when he heard the voice of his assistant, "She just walked out the door, Mr. Luthor."

"Her car is still here," as he opened his office door with one hand, the other carefully balancing a coffee and bottled water.  He did not look at her.  He would have seen Rhone leaving on his way in.  

"I'm sorry, Sir.  She left asking if I knew where she might get a better signal on her cell phone," the assistant clarified her previous statement.

Lex had never had problems with his cell phone here.  No one else ever did either, at least not that he knew.  "What did you tell her?"

"I told her that we had never had problems with reception here before.  But maybe the field would be better," she gestured to the general direction of the empty field next to the plant.  

"Griff, what's wrong?" Rhone asked into her cell phone.  When she checked her cell phone it said that she had missed a call from Speedy Joe's.  She wanted to get away from others that might hear the conversation, so she made up an excuse about a bad cell phone signal.  Worked every time.

"Are you alone?" Griff asked.  There was a hint of worry in his voice.

"Yes," she said.  Griffin was a good friend and she didn't like to hear him upset.

There was a pause on the other end of the line.  "Gell left this morning," he said in a tone of worry.

"He came back to leave," she said.  Someone was coming.  She felt it in the ground.  She didn't look back; it was Lex.  "In a few moments, I won't be alone," she added.

"He handed me his retirement notice because you weren't here," Griff continued.

"Everyone has the right to retire whenever they want to," she said coolly.  "Listen to me, Griff, I want you to watch him," Rhone said immediately.  Something in her mind made it a necessity for some reason.

"He's retired, Rhone.  Just let it go, you always said he was bad for cohesiveness anyway," Griffin reiterated.

"No one can continue living the way he does without our kind of income.  When you retire, you stop getting paid.  There is no pension plan, no 401K.  You know this and so does he.  He has nothing stashed away for those expensive habits but he won't give them up either.  He will have to find the cash somehow.  Watch him," Rhone explained with a serious face even though he couldn't see it.  

"I'll put D on it," he said.

Lex was walking up behind Rhone.  She was standing in the field wearing a black pinstripe fitted pants suit with her cell phone to her ear.  Her hair was still pulled back, artist's tube slung across her back, and she had those sneakers on again.  Lex had to smile.  She was so -- genuine.  Her back was to him and he thought about walking up behind her and wrapping his hands around her waist.  

"Did he say anything else?" he heard her ask her cell phone.  Lex walked around her and stood in front of her.  He wasn't trying to spy on her.  He wanted to make his presence known.  She stared straight ahead with a look that he had seen before.  He didn't like that look on her face.  Was it detachment or coldness?  She was still attractive; it just gave him a displaced feeling.  The look wasn't right; it wasn't her.

She had been listening to the phone for a moment when he handed her the bottled water he brought for her.  

She had known he was there; she felt him coming.  "Well, I guess we can add that to the list of things he's offered to shove up my ass," she said in a tone that matched her expression.  

Lex wanted to smile at her comment.  But the way she was just standing there, rigid posture, with that look on her face, her tone wouldn't let him.  

"He blames you," Griffin said on the other end of the line.

"I know he does," Rhone concurred.  "He has told me that before, remember?" she asked without really wanting an answer.  

"He's wrong – jealous," Griffin added.

Rhone finally took the water from Lex's hand and really looked at him.  Her face and posture softened.  She looked like the person he knew again.  "Thank you," she said kindly to Lex.  She made sure not to touch his hand when she took the water, the last time she touched him – the first night they met; it really freaked him out.  

"Who are you talking to?" Griffin remembered Rhone saying she wouldn't be alone in a moment.

"Mr. Luthor was kind enough to bring me a water," she answered.

I'm Lex, Lex thought to himself.  I keep telling you that.  You listen to everything else I say…

"Lex Luthor just hunted you down to bring you a water?  Rhone, is there something going on that I should know about?" Griffin was smiling widely even though she couldn't see it.  

She knew he was grinning like an idiot.  "No," she said flatly.

"Are you sure?" Griffin said, giving her a hard time but really wishing she could find a good man to be with.  However, he was unsure if someone like Lex Luthor could fall into the category of a "good man."  But he knew Rhone could take care of herself.

"You know my – philosophy on such things," she was being vague because the subject of the conversation was standing, very beautifully, in front of her.

"I know, but there is no rule against telling people who and what we are.  We just can't share the specifics of our assignments; that's all.  We're just like the normal military that way," Griffin said.

Rhone thought for a moment, he was right.  She could tell Lex a lot of things, things she wanted to.  The truth.  "It is irrelevant in this situation," she said.  There was nothing going on between she and Lex to begin with.  It was unnecessary for him to know such things about her.  If he knew the truth, what she was, he would never speak to her again.  It wasn't like she was secretly a pediatrician or something.  She was a – killer.  

"All I'm saying is…" Griffin started.

"Remember what I said about Gell, Griffin," Rhone said in that detached, cool demeanor again. She removed the phone from hear ear and pressed the button to end the call.  She looked at Lex again and relaxed.  She could be herself around him, real.

Lex only heard Rhone's half of the conversation, but knew it must be something serious.  "Is everything alright?" he asked as he took a sip of his coffee.  

"Someone quit at the office," she said in a dismissive tone.

"I hope it doesn't throw things off too much," he said.  They started to walk toward the building.

"No," she paused, "he hasn't wanted to work with us for a long time."  

He noticed the way she said "long time."  He had to know, "How long?"

She looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "Since I became the boss."  She continued, "He thought that he deserved it more."  

Lex nodded, thinking he understood.  In the silence, he couldn't help but ponder all the strange inconsistencies that he associated with her.  If this wasn't her real job, what did she do normally?  Where did she disappear to for four days?  What was in that tube that she always carried around?  Why didn't she look like shit from sleep deprivation like he did?  He couldn't find anything on her.  She was boring – but he knew better.  She had secrets.  Why didn't she want to tell him?  He conceded to himself that he had secrets too, but something told him they weren't the same kind of secrets.

She refocused her thoughts, "I – left something at your house last night."

Lex hid his amusement perfectly, "Besides the comic books?"

"I left my laptop in your home office," she clarified.

            "I didn't notice, I didn't go in there this morning," he said as he took a sip of coffee.  

            "Damn, I was hoping you might have brought it with you," she said.

            "You can stop by my place and pick it up around 5," he suggested.

            She was reading his body language and facial expression.  That bastard, she thought to herself.  She smiled inwardly.  He deliberately didn't bring it with him.  "I wouldn't want to interrupt your dinner," she said casually.

            "Well, you could show up a little earlier and join me," he suggested.  

            God he was smooth, if she were any other woman…or even if she was who she was pretending to be….  Where did that come from?  It didn't matter, she was who she was and there was nothing that could change it.  

            He noticed her pause.  He was not going to let the offer just be avoided like she had a knack for doing.  "You did say that one of the benefits to my friendship was meals," he said matter-of-factly.  

            "I don't know," she hesitated, "are you going to try and make me sit across that continent you call a table again?"  She looked at him with a smirk.

            "You also promised me that we would watch your – show last night," he pointed out.

            "I don't seem to remember 'promising' you anything," it was her turn to be matter-of-fact.  There was a pause when they walked, silently smiling together.  He opened the door for her again.  She wondered if she would ever get used to that.  They passed his assistant as they walked into his office.  Rhone noticed that she gave them "a look."  They sat in a small couch area to the left of his desk.  "So, how early is 'a little earlier," she quoted his words.  

            He smiled despite the fact that she was sitting across from him and not beside him.  "What time do you get done here?" he asked innocently.

            She leaned forward, "I don't have to be here at all, remember?"

            Lex smiled widely at her.  He had forgotten that all she had to do was put her name on the cover sheet saying the work had been done.  Then why in the hell would she get here at 6 in the morning and work so hard?  He had heard reports from Diane, the manager in that office, that Rhone was doing most of the work on the invoice check.  She worked so fast and accurately.  The other three were such perfectionists that it took them forever to do anything.  

            Lex got up and reached in his pocket.  She looked at him questioningly.  "Coming?" he asked plainly.

            "Where?" she asked, genuinely wondering.

            "Dinner," he answered.

            She didn't bother to check her watch, "It's not even noon."

            He went to the door and put his keys in it like he was going to lock it.  She got up and walked out the door that they had walked in only moments ago.  He began to lock the door behind them.  "Tell me, Mr. Luthor," she began as they started to walk out.  "Why do you even have an office?" she finished.

            Lex stopped in front of his assistant's desk and looked at her with a faint grin.  He was about to speak but there was a noise from beside them.  They both looked at Lex's assistant.  She was stifling a laugh and looking at the two of them, "I don't know why he does either, Honey."

            "Eh…" he began to defend himself.  Suddenly, he shook his head and turned around abruptly.

            Rhone grinned as he walked away.  She looked back to Lex's assistant and they smiled at one another.  One of the disadvantages to being completely bald, Rhone thought, was people being able to see you blush as you walk away.

            That did not just happen, Lex told himself.  At least I was fast enough to turn away before they could see me blush.  …Did Luthors blush?  He didn't think his father ever covered that one specifically, but was sure that it would meet with disapproval.  

But his father never met Rhone Chade, Lex thought.  Lex's thoughts turned to Victoria – not that Rhone was anything like her.  He thought of the pictures he had received, of his father and Victoria fornicating -- an encounter that his father had initiated.

He decided to keep Rhone or the fact that he had any sort of – fondness for her from his father.  Either he would seduce her or – dispose of her.  He would destroy her in either case.  Rhone was tough in an independent sort of way, but no one had ever really come out on top against Lionel Luthor.  Lex considered himself pretty lucky to still be alive.  

She was walking a few feet behind him, having shared a smile with his assistant.  Lex stopped at the door, holding it open for her.  She walked past him and smiled at the still-slightly-embarrassed grin on his face and the politeness of the gesture.  

They walked toward their cars.  "So, Mr. Luthor, what do I have to do to get one of these signs?" she pointed to the "Reserved for Lex Luthor" sign.  "I mean, you're only here for, what, a half hour a day and you get one," she said.

"Normally, I try to stay for at least an hour," he replied with a smirk.  

She walked to the driver's side of her custom car and opened the door.  He looked at it again.  If Luthors were capable of jealousy, he would have been.  She – made a car, an awesome one.  Was it better than his?

Rhone turned and caught his look as he glanced at her car.  Speed-wise, this car could incinerate anything he owned and you would never even know you were moving.  It must be horrible to have everything.  It must make the unattainable that much worse.

"I'll see you in – about an hour," she said.

He perked up his eyebrows, "An hour?"

"I didn't exactly have time for a shower this morning, clean my contacts, change my clothes," she said, getting into her car.  Normally, she didn't wear her contacts for so long.  She never wore them on the base or when she was on a mission.  People eventually got used to her eyes without them, but she didn't like answering questions.

Lex got into his Lamborghini.  Contacts?  He had thought that her eyes didn't look right when they met, but got used to them.  They could be corrective, he thought.  He never understood why people bothered to wear colored contacts anyway.  She didn't exactly seem like the type of person that would care about altering their looks.  


	17. Chapter 17

"Thank you," Lex said into the phone on his home office desk.  "I'm sure that there are more, I will send them.  Watch your e-mail," he said with a faint smirk on his face.  I'll tell her at dinner, he thought to himself.  Lex hung up the phone and checked his watch.  12:50…  He half-heartedly started to do some work at his desk.

"I should take a picture and give it to your assistant," Rhone said from her position against the doorframe a few moments later.

Lex looked up and smiled, "I didn't hear you come in."  He set his work down and started to get up from his position behind the desk.  She was dressed casually again, hair pulled back – as usual.  He smiled at her and her artist's tube.  Why would she carry that if she kept her supplies in that portfolio?

            She opened her mouth as if to say something, but then stopped and looked at the phone.  Lex followed her gaze, what?  A moment later, it beeped.  

            "Sir, your father is on line one," Mark's voice came over the phone.

            Lex furrowed his eyebrows at the phone and then looked to Rhone.  "If his own son doesn't want to talk to him, he must be the great guy that everyone says he is," Rhone said with a smile.  She knew the state of Lex' relationship with his father and the kind of a man Lionel Luthor was.  It would take some attention away from the fact that she had just predicted that the phone would beep.

            "It's just that I have better things to do," he said as he put his hands in his pockets.

            "Then why did you invite me over?" Rhone asked with a hint of sarcasm.  

            The phone beeped again before he could reply.  He looked at it.  He really didn't want to answer it.  Not only did he have better things to do; there was an – enchanting woman in his home.  And he didn't want to have to make up an excuse as to why he was home at 1 in the afternoon and not at the plant.  "I really should take this," he said trying to convey that he would rather be talking to her.

            She gestured for him to take the call.  He had done her the same courtesy before.  And he was a busy person – compared to most people.  

            "It will only take a moment," Lex hoped.  He realized that he would be talking to his father, "You can wait in the library."  He gestured that it would be down the hall.  

            "Alright," she began with a smile, "but if Professor Plum is in there with a candlestick, I'm leaving."  

            He chuckled, "No candlesticks, but plenty of other things to bludgeon with."

            Well, that was the kind of thing she liked to hear.  Although she knew today would require her to do no bludgeoning.  Maybe more days could be like that…  She turned on her heels and walked out towards the library.

            Lex watched her walk.  It was so commanding, like all of the great leaders his father was always telling him to emulate.  The phone beeped again and he looked back to the phone, agitated that he was pulled out of his thoughts.  He hit the button.  "Dad," was all he said.

            "Son," the voice of Lionel Luthor came over the speakerphone.  "I tried to reach you at the plant, but your assistant said you went home early," he said.

            Lex knew he wanted an explanation.  "I wasn't feeling well," Lex said simply.

            "And the Invoice Supervisor has this same illness?" Lionel asked facetiously.  

            Shit.  After the incident today and ratting him out to his father, he should fire that assistant.  Rhone would never let him do that….  "As far as I know, she has rarely been there.  I met her," he paused pretending to think about it, "Last Monday, I believe.  She probably spends her time finding ways to waste more taxpayer dollars, driving around to get reimbursed for that $.35 cents a mile."  Lex didn't like talking about Rhone this way even if he was just doing it to convince his father.  He would beat the shit out of himself if he could, for talking that way about her.  

Lionel laughed on the other end of the line.  That noise always made Lex flinch, and this time it made him feel a pang of – guilt.  

"I think that is a little too creative for someone like that," Lionel was still quite amused.  

"Yeah," Lex replied.  Normally, he was pleased when his father was completely wrong about something.

"Anyway, Son, the reason I phoned was about your," he hesitated, "trip to Metropolis first week in November."

"I said that I would do it," Lex said.

"Two days after that, an exhibit is coming to the Luthor Wing of the Metropolis Art Museum.  A representative from our family should be there," Lionel was waiting for Lex to jump in.

Lex didn't really care about spending time in Metropolis anymore.  …Maybe he would be able to catch up with Rhone in those two days.  By then he will not have seen her for about a month.  

A wave of realization hit him.  At the end of September, in approximately five days, she would be gone.  There was a heavy feeling in his chest.  In an odd way, it hurt.  "I guess I can find the time," Lex said coolly.  

"Excellent," Lionel said as he terminated the call.

Lex sat there for a moment contemplating his realization.  He also contemplated his reaction to it.  

            Lionel Luthor tapped the button on his phone to get an outside line.  He dialed a number he knew well.  He shuffled through some papers as he waited for an answer.  "I need you to do some digging for me," he said into the phone when there was an answer.  

            Rhone sat on one of the couches in the library.  She didn't mean to hear his conversation, but she did have quite acute hearing.  She should have gone farther away.  Did he really think that way about her?  What the hell was he always pretending to be so interested in her life for then?

His relationship with his father was – strained, to put it nicely.  Maybe he didn't want his father thinking anything about them.  She could protect herself from a man of Lionel Luthor's means.  She had destroyed better, more powerful men, with very minimal effort.  

It annoyed her that she couldn't say anything about what she had heard.  Lex was quite astute and perhaps he would realize that she had heard the conversation from a measurable distance away.  He would catch on to things like that.  Clark had told her from personal experience about how Lex could get about such things.  Or he would think that she spied on him.  Normally that wouldn't bother her, but it would in this instance.

Since when does what he thinks of you matter?  It doesn't, he doesn't know the real you anyway.  He knows some comic book making office worker, not a comic book making super powered soldier of fortune.  She looked at the artist's tube she had placed on the couch beside her.  


	18. Chapter 18

"Sorry about that," Lex said as he walked into the room.  She had heard him coming, but continued to sit on the couch in thought.  

She looked towards him.  The stained glass windows were casting red light onto his scalp.  After a short moment she smiled faintly and said, "I understand."  

"What?" he asked when he noticed the way she looked at him and the delay of her response.  He walked over to the couch she was sitting on.

She didn't want to mention that she was pondering his private phone conversation and then was temporarily paralyzed by his beauty.  You did not just think that, she told herself.  It was just an interesting effect of colored light and shadow that any person of the arts would have found appealing.  Right?  Of course.  

"I was just thinking about how hard it'll be to train someone to do that guy's job," she said lightly.  It was true, natural abilities like the ones they looked for weren't apparent in just anyone.  They had to search for new people from all walks of life.  It was strenuous.  They usually had someone looking all the time, even when they didn't need anyone.  And then there was the training time that had to be invested in a new soldier before they could be left on their own to train as they saw fit…  It took a quite some time to attain a fully functional unit – soldier.

            Lex couldn't read her well enough to know if she was just thinking about it or if she was stressing about it.  How horrible could this be?  Find another paper pusher.  "It's only work," he said as he sat on the other end of the couch.  He wished her artist's tube wasn't where it was so he could have sat closer to her.  Maybe he would be able to figure out what she smelled like.  It had been bothering him since last night.  Something was familiar about it, despite its unusual nature.  

Only work.  My work is my whole life, she thought.  And now there was a bitter, not to mention well-connected, trained killer out there.  People had certainly retired before, but none with the aggression that Gell had.  Usually people even remotely like him self-destructed, crashed and burned before they could retire.  He had been a member of the team for longer than she had, but she never liked the man.  Something in her always told her not to trust him.  Not to mention the way that he treated her before she was EX-O…

She nodded.  "I saw it coming.  He was showing up to work less and less.  He was – increasingly insubordinate, to put it mildly," she said more to herself than to Lex.  Gell had developed an even greater distrust and hate of her ever since she returned from "The Paris Incident," which her eight-month disappearance had become known as.  It was accurate, the incident at the Louver had started – her change.  Maybe he was just angry because she had so easily returned to being EX-O and he felt he had been cheated again.  Maybe her new behavior just disturbed him that much.  Or it could stem from his previous attempts to – attain her.  No, she was a lot of things, but desirable was not one of them.  

She didn't want to talk about it anymore.  Even though she wasn't really lying, the context was misleading.  She didn't like thinking about Gell or the way she had to lie to everyone about having selective amnesia from when she was missing in action either.  "Compared to the last one, that was a short conversation with your father," she commented to change the subject.

"He wanted me to attend an art exhibit opening in Metropolis the first week of November," he started, "Maybe something you would enjoy."  Lex figured his father was probably already running a more thorough background check on her.  He wasn't stupid.  He really had wanted to keep her – beneath his father's radar.

He was offering her an invitation, she knew.  She couldn't help but smile; her rubbing elbows with high society, her wearing a dress.  She would have laughed if he didn't look so serious about the invitation.  "I'm busy that night," she said as though she had had plans from months before.

He smiled at her, "I didn't even tell you what day it was on."

            "I'll be gone the first week in November," she recovered.  She couldn't continue to have a personal relationship with him after she left.  She liked him; they had a lot in common and she had fun with him, but he would ask questions.  She knew he would, that was one of the reasons she liked him.  

"Oh," he said with sigh.  Maybe she would be gone that week, but she answered pretty quickly.  He didn't understand, he thought they had a great time together.  At least he had a good time when he was with her.  She had never said anything but he wondered if it could be that… He ran a hand over his scalp.  Was he – self-conscious?  He told people that he thought his head was a gift and that it defined him and it was true, but he had a – slight complex around people that he genuinely cared about impressing.

"I told you that the people in our office are very busy, in high demand," she said as she picked up her artist's tube and set it beside the couch.  She didn't want him to touch it and hurt himself.  "We are away often," she continued.  She wished that she could tell him the truth.

He turned toward her, "Well, if you find that you are free…"

Should she just come clean about the other obvious reasons she couldn't go with him?  She turned to face him and put her arm on the back of the couch.  "I'm not exactly the kind of person you take to something like that," she said with honesty in her eyes.

"And why is that?" he asked in a disbelieving tone.

She had been trained to be bait when she arrived at the base, when she was first recruited.  All the women were, not that there were many women that were recruited.  She had been trained by the best.  An image of Thalia flashed in her memory, the woman was a living pheromone.  None of her targets had ever resisted her.  It was a shame that she was lost before Rhone could really get to know her.  Now Rhone was the only woman on the team.

Thalia taught her to look at someone and determine what he or she wanted you to be.  Then change yourself to become it.  She used it on men to attain information with astounding success.  Rhone had never had to do it, and she never wanted to.  She didn't like the idea of becoming some kind of object, even if it was only a temporary fraud.  Not only that, Thalia was beautiful – would it even work if Rhone tried it?  Sure, she used it to gain the good graces of many but as a form of recon?

"Can you imagine what your peers would think if you showed up with some no-makeup, poorly dressed, ill refined, plain, comic book drawing nobody?" she chuckled.  The thought of her crashing some high society art exhibit on a skateboard was amusing to her, like a bad eighties movie.  

Lex wasn't laughing and he wasn't smiling.  He sat there for a moment looking at her.  He shook his head partly because he didn't know how to respond to that and because he didn't give a shit about what anyone else thought.  If they had any intelligence at all, they would see at least part of what he saw in her.   But that would mean that they would have to look up from the inevitable contest of "Who Has the Most Money" for a few minutes.

She hadn't noticed his reaction.  "If your father found out that you disgraced your name in such a way, he might find an even shittier town to banish you to.  Maybe a leper colony or someplace equally appealing," she was still amused.  After a moment, she realized his reaction and her smile faded, "What?"

"I invited you," his eyes flashed, "and I meant it."  

"I – didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Luthor.  I'm sorry," she said.

"You didn't offend me," he relaxed a little bit, "just say that you'll go."

"I told you that I can't," she replied and tried to make it sound believable.  It was better this way and she hated it.  It was possible that she really would be gone those days.  She never knew when a job would come up.  

She wasn't lying, but she was hiding something.  He got that feeling from her a lot.  What could someone like her possibly have to hide?  Was he just paranoid?  He often found himself feeling that many people were hiding things from him – even Clark.  And that was just ridiculous.  

Could it be the whole situation would just be uncomfortable to her?  Rich people, expensive clothes, networking, even he felt a little overwhelmed at times, and he was raised to deal with that kind of situation.  That was a pretty good explanation.  If that was the case, he had to admit that he admired her foresight.

She could see that he was thinking about what had just been said.  He must not get rejected that often, she thought looking at him.  Ok, he must not ever get rejected.  Hell, I bet he never even has to ask.  "Maybe some other time," she said.  What, some other time?  That was just as impossible.

She would have to remember to look in on the exhibit if she was around Metropolis.  There would be a lot of high power people there, maybe doing something suspicious.  It was fascinating what you could trace back to certain "pillars of the community."

He nodded slowly.  Well, that was something.  Maybe he could convince her to cancel any plans she had for the week of the art exhibit before she left.  …There was that feeling again, that ache he had felt when he thought about her leaving.

"Why the library?" she roused him from his thoughts.  

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Of all the rooms in this museum, why did you tell me to go to the library?" she clarified her question.  She gestured to her surroundings as she looked at them.  

He paused for a moment as he looked around the room and considered her question.  "I just thought you would like it in here.  I almost expected you to be looking through my collection," he said.

"Why would you think that?" she asked with a quizzical look on her face.

"You just seem like you would be interested in reading more than comic books," he said with a smirk.

She knew that he was trying to compliment her in a subtle way.  She smiled widely and leaned towards him slightly, "Don't you ever get tired of being wrong all the time, Mr. Luthor?"  

His smile widened and he let out a small laugh.

"If this were a few years ago, you would have been right though," she conceded.

The expression on his face returned to the trademark smirk.  He tilted his head in a tell-me-more gesture.  He silently debated moving over another cushion or two, to sit right beside her.

"They just stopped speaking to me," she gestured to the shelves of countless great authors again.  

"They stopped 'speaking' to you?" he asked using her words.  

She decided to share something of herself.  It was something from far enough back that it didn't really matter.  It was part of her old life.  "When I was still in high school…" she started, "stop me if you think you are going to fall into a boredom-induced coma."

His eyes didn't leave her as he continued to smirk, "I'll let you know."

"I did this speech on art and beauty," she added, "it was a philosophy course."  Lex nodded.  "I concluded that something was only art and beautiful if you could see either a part or all of yourself in it – the innate vanity of humanity.  To make a long story short, sometime later I realized that I couldn't see myself in those anymore," she gestured to the shelves once more, "They didn't 'speak' to me anymore."

"So, what happened to make you realize that?" Lex asked.

Why did he always have to ask those kinds of questions?  He asked questions that could lead the conversation towards more – prohibited subjects.  "I used to work at that comic book store," she had a tone that implied she was checking to see if he remembered that she had mentioned it previously.

Of course I remember you told me that, Lex thought.  He tried to commit every detail about her to his long-term memory.  He nodded and silently began to slide over to the adjacent couch cushion.  He only realized what he was doing when he was already moving.  He decided that since he was already taking a chance…

Lex moved to the cushion that was adjacent to Rhone.  She leaned back slightly as he approached, but didn't move otherwise.  "I worked there with my best friend.  She and I were – goddesses there," she said with a far off look in her eyes that told of her reminiscing.  She realized how long it had been since she had even thought of Marie.  Yet, when it came down to it, if it weren't for her, Rhone wouldn't be where she was today.  

She had a large smile on her face, one that Lex had never seen before.  He smiled as he committed that to memory as well.  "Goddesses?  That is a pretty powerful position," Lex perked an eyebrow.

"It's easy to be – desired -- among a crowd of stereotypical male comic book readers.  Just be female.  But if you can talk to them about the things they love – you are a goddess.  Quite the ego trip," she looked back to him with a wide smile.  

"So what happened?" Lex asked as he put an arm on the back of the couch.  

"She died, maniac with a gun.  It changed my life forever," Rhone said with no emotion.  That was quite possibly the largest understatement ever.

"I'm sorry…" Lex said, feeling a little guilty for dredging this up.  He could tell that Rhone and this girl were close.

She didn't reply to his apology.  That never made sense to her, people apologizing for things they had absolutely nothing to do with.  And he probably had to do that a lot – considering his lineage.  "It's too bad," she smiled again and leaned her head on the hand that was resting on the back of the couch next to Lex's, "We had plans."

"Global domination?" Lex asked coyly.

She looked at him for a long moment with only a small hint of her previous smile on her face.  Lex was about to apologize for being insensitive.  

"You know," she said, "it's like you've known me my whole life."

He wasn't expecting that.  "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"She and I used to say stuff like that all the time – jokingly of course," she added, thinking of Marie.

"What were the plans?" Lex didn't want the conversation to end.

"To do what we wanted to with our lives.  Start our own comic book company where we did everything so no one could tell us what we could or couldn't do.  Maybe have a store of our own wherever we wound up.  …And we could have to.  We wouldn't care if we spent the rest of our lives shopping at Goodwill or eating out of dumpsters just to make it happen," she was smiling widely again.

"Sounds – great," Lex said pondering the last part of her statement.

"I know.  I wound up pretty far away from our dreams.  But then, I think most people do.  I never imagined that I would wind up some – government lackey," she was still looking into his eyes.  

"You are not a government lackey.  I think that you wound up pretty close to where you imagined.  Your comic books are – superb," Lex gazed at her.  He thought back to the call that he had received before she had arrived and a wave a joy washed over him.  "Maybe you should quit your job and do comic books full time," he said. 

"That," she hesitated, "is not an option."  She had a contemplative look on her face.

Lex was going to wait until dinner, but he had to tell her.  "I believe that everything is an option," he said in a matter-of-fact way.

"Said the son of a billionaire," Rhone smirked at him, "It is a little more complicated than you might think."  Money wasn't the real reason she couldn't quit her job, obviously.  She had obligations; her men were people she cared about and she couldn't leave them.  Then whom would she have?  

A smile had crept over Lex.  It wasn't one that she had seen before – like a child that had just done something wonderful for his mother.  Like picking her a bouquet of wild flowers or making an attempt at breakfast just because.  "What?" she asked, as she looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

He held up his index finger to indicate "1 minute."  He abruptly got up off the couch and left the room.


	19. Chapter 19

Rhone sat on the couch waiting in the same position.  What the hell was he doing?  It was like he got some sort of epiphany or something and had to go tell the media.

In a few moments, Lex walked briskly back into the room.  He had something in his hand.  He took his previous position – his close previous position, Rhone noted.  She looked in his lap and saw her comic books there.  She furrowed her eyebrows at him.

He sat for a moment.  "This morning I made a call to my father's printing company.  I scanned these and e-mailed them," he gestured toward the comic books.  "I was just going to get a couple of nice copies for myself.  As it turns out, one of the guys that happened to be making the copies has a friend at Keldora Comics, the people that make Warrior Angel.  He forwarded the files and Keldora loved them," Lex said as he looked at her with a smirk, waiting for a reply.

She sat there, looking at him blankly.  Lex took it for shock; he realized that being on the good side of someone with his means took a little getting used to.  He added, "And with a word of recommendation from me – I think you already have a corner office."  

Rhone was shocked.  She didn't know what to say or do.  She didn't know how to tell him that she could never…  Being some sort of public figure could get her killed.  Any sort of fame was not an option.  She had to be able to disappear…

"Are you…" she started, "insane?"

That was not what he was hoping for.  Maybe a hug or a kiss on the cheek or the lips…

She started shaking her head with a worried look, "You have to call them back, tell them you made a mistake."

"What?" Lex asked, a look of severe confusion covering his face.

She stood up and faced him as he sat on the couch.  "This is not an option," she said very seriously.

"A few minutes ago, you were telling me it was your life's dream," Lex was a little taken aback by her reaction.  He rested his elbows on his knees as he looked up at her.  

"That was a different life," Rhone said flatly.  Shit, she shouldn't have said that – at least not that way.

He stood up and stood in front of her.  "Is it because she isn't with you?  That you would be living the dream you shared without her?" he asked.

What?  Rhone thought to herself.  She had never thought that.  Marie would have wanted her to do this, even if she couldn't be there to share it.  Maybe she should just let him believe that.  "I can assure you, Mr. Luthor, that it has nothing to do with Marie," she said softly as she looked into his eyes.

"Then what is it?" he had never seen her react to anything very strongly before.  She wasn't yelling at him, quite the contrary, neither of them had raised their voice.  He also picked up that she finally put a name to her best friend.

"Can't you just forget it, let it go?" she said with a pained look.

"Clark tells me that that isn't something I do very well," he said, he wanted to touch her.  

"Can you do it just this once?  I really do appreciate what you tried to do.  I'm even flattered that you wanted your own copies enough to take the initiative to get them printed, but it's just – impossible," she finished.

She just told me, Lex Luthor, that something is impossible.  I thought she knew me.  "Why?" he asked, his voice a little firmer to get a real answer.  

She hesitated, "It's classified."  It was the truth.  Well, some of it.  Why did Griff have to point out that she could tell him about what she was – at least a good part of it?  Then why don't you just tell him?  He wouldn't look at me the same way, that's why.

He gave her a look that landed somewhere between "what the hell" and moderately annoyed.

"I work for the government.  That's what they do, classify things," she said.

"And I am just expected to accept that as an explanation?" he asked, face returning to normalcy.

She briefly looked at the floor and then at two empty hands at her sides.  She looked at him again, "That's all that I have to give you, Mr. Luthor."  

She was waiting for a reply.  He exhaled loudly.  Still, neither of them raised their voice, but he felt the need to apologize.  "Listen, I'm sorry, but I don't understand…" he started to say.

Just tell him, she thought.  I can't, she thought instantly.  "Don't be sorry, I would be the same way if our roles were reversed," she said softly.  She smiled at him; she wanted to take his hand into hers and tell him her whole life.  But it's not like it was a realistic thing to do.

            She wanted to forget that the last part of their conversation had taken place.  She had spit out a few conditioned responses that she thought Lex picked up on.  "You have all of these books," she turned from him and walked toward the shelves, "do you write?"

            "That isn't exactly my forte," he replied from behind her.

            "So what do you do when you need to be creative?" she turned to look at him again, "Besides finding innovative ways to hide controversial research equipment?"

Lex was at a loss for words.  Not over the fact that she was teasing him about the particle accelerator, but that he didn't do anything -- imaginative.  

She noticed his pause, "You never just draw, or paint, or write because you want to?"

Lex put his hands in his pockets.  She was looking at him like he was some sort of science experiment, studying him.  "I would think that you have much to offer," she said.  Lex gave a slight smile at her subtle compliment.  He filed it away with "urbane."  

"I'll meet you in the room adjacent to your office," she said as she walked past him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, but she was already out the door.


	20. Chapter 20

A few moments later, Rhone walked through the door.  She had the portfolio that she had brought in last night.  Lex looked up from the fire that he had started and immediately noticed that she was without her artist's tube.  

She didn't know why she had decided to leave it in her car again.  Maybe she wanted to know if last night was just a fluke when she didn't even realize that it was gone. 

She walked to the large table and set down the portfolio without a word.  She pulled out two chairs right next to one another and sat in one of them.  Lex walked up beside her to see what she was doing.  She started getting out paper, pencils, ink pens, and other art supplies.  Lex slowly realized what she was doing.

"It is more comfortable to sit, Mr. Luthor," she looked up at him from her seated position and gestured to the vacant chair beside her.  

It was with great reluctance that he sat down.  She slid a pad of paper in front of him, kept one for herself, and placed all of the other supplies in between them.

She had been putting a little more thought into that new comic book idea that she had a few days ago.  She started flowcharting the general plot that she wanted it to take.  She didn't know how many issues it would be yet, so she just put down any detail she might want to use in the new comic book.  

Lex watched her out of the corner of his eye.  She had her right leg wedged between herself and the edge of the table and she was holding the notebook vertically to accommodate this position.  He couldn't see what she was working on.  

How hard could this be?  He picked up a pencil and positioned himself so he could start drawing – any second now.  When he got an idea…  Did she just look at him?  He thought he saw her look at him and then scribble something on her paper…  She did it again…  Well, back to his paper – his blank paper.

After a few moments Lex tossed the pencil on his paper and said, "What am I supposed to be drawing?"  He felt a mild frustration.

Rhone continued looking at her paper and scribbling when a smile curled over her lips.  "Wow," she said flatly.

"Wow what?" he asked looking at her.  She still hadn't looked up yet.  

"That was a whole," she looked at her watch, "minute and thirteen seconds."  She finally turned her attention to him.  "I'm not grading you, Mr. Luthor, you can draw or write what you want," she said, still faintly smiling.  

He continued to look at her, "What are you working on?"  Maybe he could just do what she was doing.

"Planning for a new comic book series that's been in my head for a few days," she answered as she started looking at her paper again.  

He couldn't see exactly what she was doing.  "May I see it?" he asked.

"No," she continued to look at her paper, "you may not.  If you saw the whole plan right now, it wouldn't be very interesting when you read it later."  She didn't want to elaborate on the real reason she didn't want to show it to him.  She turned her head slightly to hide a guilty smile that crossed her lips.  

I won't get to read it later, you'll be gone, he thought.  He visibly straightened his posture when he got that odd feeling in his chest again.  Maybe he should make an appointment with his physician.

Rhone misunderstood his reaction.  She didn't want him to be pissed off over something so trivial.  Just draw something.  She had never met someone that had such a hard time doing something so seemingly simple.  

She closed the notebook she had been working in and turned to him.  "I've been having problems working out some kinks in this one short story I've been thinking about for a single comic.  Maybe you could help me?" she half asked, half suggested.  She really didn't have another short story idea in the works, but she could tell he was challenged by the task she had set before him and that it was beginning to frustrate him.  If she made it sound less like an art project and more like a board meeting collaboration, perhaps it would be less daunting.  

Thank God.  She can just bounce ideas off of me and I can tell her what I think.  I can do that, I'm used to it.

She picked up a pencil and slid Lex's paper over a few inches toward her.  Ok, Rhone, just bull shit something.  "It's a post apocalyptic thing," she started, "about an eco-terrorist that is now – obviously unemployed.  But it was because of one of the things that he did that the apocalypse occurred.  Now he has to deal with getting what he wanted and being currently screwed."  Not bad, she thought to herself, I might actually use that…

Lex furrowed his eyebrows and smiled wryly at the same time.  With a small laugh, he asked, "So, what's the problem?"

"Setting, both time and place – or if he or she should be nomadic.  And what exactly they did to cause the apocalypse and still be alive," she fabricated immediate problems she might have encountered.  While she was talking she started doing very preliminary sketches of what the main character might look like, both male and female.

He leaned over and watched her draw.  It was amazing.  He had seen her finished products; he knew she was talented, but watching it happen was something else.  He stole a glance at the intense look on her face as she drew and smiled as he looked back down to the paper she was drawing on.  "Maybe they should stay in one place, one that used to be heavily populated so they could have some resources and it would still be realistic," he offered.

Good boy, Rhone thought.  She drew some large buildings behind the sketches of characters that she had drawn.  They had little shading and appeared almost pristine, one even had a fountain.  

Lex shook his head quickly and said, "Darker.  Have you ever looked at Gotham City from the harbor district?"

Yes, she thought.  She remembered tossing a – non-patriot into that harbor.  "No, show me," she turned the page and slid the paper closer to him.

Lex hesitated, "I don't think I can put it down on paper."  He didn't know how to draw.  And next to hers, it would just be embarrassing.  

"Well, I've never seen it," she said as she tilted her head and looked back to the blank paper.  

Lex squinted at the white page.  He went to put the pencil to it, but stopped and withdrew his hand.  After a pause he rested the point of the pencil on the paper.  "It sort of looks like there are different – layers of buildings," he said, trying to describe the memory as he started to draw.  

Rhone watched him draw.  She shook her head when she realized that she wasn't watching the paper.  She leaned forward to fully see what he was drawing.  It was – crude, but she guessed this guy hadn't been a vessel for the muse since he was in diapers.  

"You can kind of get the idea…" he pulled away from the paper and turned toward her.

She looked at it and nodded silently.  He needed to be reassured.  She said, "I like that idea.  As a matter of fact, I think that's the cover."  

Lex smiled widely.  He knew she was just being nice – but it felt so good to be encouraged.  His mother had always been the one to do that sort of thing, but she was gone.  She had been for – a long time.  

Rhone interrupted his thoughts, "Seriously, Mr. Luthor, and you know how important covers are in comic books."

He continued grinning and nodded in agreement.  She was right.

She turned the page again, to another blank page.  "Try it again, but use less of an out line form.  Use a softer line and don't be afraid to erase," she was showing him on the back of the previous page.

Lex exhaled loudly, "You tricked me."

"Tricked you?" she asked innocently.

"Into drawing that picture," he still had a grin on his face.

"I don't believe that you would do a damn thing you didn't want to," she looked at him thoughtfully.  "To be honest, I'm surprised you didn't see past my bogus plot," she added.

She was right.  He did want to draw something; he just didn't know how to start.  Wait.  "You just made that up – about the eco-terrorist, the whole thing?" he asked.

She shrugged an obvious "yes."

I wish I could do that, he thought.  "That was pretty good, for being on the spot," he said, impressed.  

"Thanks," she said after a pause.  She didn't really know how to receive a compliment from him.  It was so much more meaningful than when it came from, well, anyone else.  "Try holding the pencil…" she started to move towards his hand, like she was going to show him.  She remembered the first and only time she had touched him.  It was in this room, and she thought he was going to jerk away so fast he would get whiplash.  

He held perfectly still.  He watched her lean and reach for his hand.  Suddenly, she stopped and held her hand so he could see how she held her pencil.

"Like this," she said, not looking at him.

What the hell?  He wondered again why touching anyone else wasn't a problem, but when it came to him it was like he had the plague or something.  He silently wished that he had had the foresight to engrain every detail of their only previous contact into his memory.  At least enjoy it…

What was he thinking?  He was Lex Luthor.  Women pined for him.  At the clubs back in Metropolis, it wasn't uncommon for him to be surrounded by six or seven super model worthy women at a time.  Sometimes they actually were gorgeous models or actresses.  

…But they didn't swoon for him; they swooned for his wealth, his power.  He never had had an actual conversation with any of them.  And when he thought about it, he never had fun.  Sure, the meaningless sex was physically enjoyable, but not fun like he was having now.  They never gave him this feeling of – contentment – warmth.

And another thing was for sure.  None of those women had ever, not even for a moment, in any way reminded him of this mother.  Rhone had specifically reminded him of her twice.  It was comforting and frightening at the same time.   

You could always just touch her, he thought to himself, and see how she reacts…

"Mr. Luthor?" her words shook him from his thoughts.  He perked up his eyebrows to acknowledge her.  "You must be tired," she said with a small grin.

I'm always tired, he thought.  He just didn't notice it when she was around.  "I'm sorry, I…" he started to say.

"Do you always apologize so much?" she interrupted in a soft voice.

"Only to people I want to keep as friends," he responded, looking at her intently.

He was looking at her and she couldn't stop looking back.  She was trying to read him with little success.  Searching his eyes, his face…  "So, what do you think of these?" she held up the sketches she had made for the main character.  

He broke the gaze and looked toward the paper.  "For the hero?" he asked.

"An eco-terrorist that essentially caused the apocalypse is hardly a hero, Mr. Luthor," Rhone smiled.

"Maybe they are trying to redeem themselves," Lex offered, "They did cause the downfall of humanity.  That could make anyone feel a little guilty."

She knew he had it in him; he was too intelligent to not have an imagination.  Granted, it didn't get used very often, but it was there.  It just needed some exercise.  She smiled widely.  "Who did?" she held the notebook out to him so he could look at the dozen characters she had drawn.  

He wondered what she was smiling about.  He looked down at the paper and contemplated all the sketches.  "This one," he said, leaning the paper toward her and pointing.  

Rhone leaned forward to look at the one he had chosen.  "At least he'll be easy to draw," Rhone noticed he had picked a very average looking comic book hero.  Way too much like Warrior Angel, she thought.  None of the characters she had drawn were bald.  There was a reason for that.  At least he didn't seem to notice.

That one was the best, he reminded Lex of Warrior Angel.  Lex wondered what was with all of the characters having these heads of luxurious hair?  She had asked him if he thought a woman could be a hero.  Didn't she think a bald guy could be a hero?  Should he be offended?  No.  She just didn't think about things like that.

She opened her inkwell and got out her inking pens.  He watched her begin to add definition to the character he had chosen.  Then she handed the ink pen to him with a warm smile.  He took it from her and studied what she had already done.  "Have you ever used a pen like that before?" she asked out of curiosity.

"Actually, I was at a ceremonial contract signing once.  We used calligraphy pens like these," Lex said still looking at the paper.

"That's more experience than I had when I started," she said with a nod.

He felt comfortable enough to start inking without any – convincing.  He couldn't believe that he felt that at ease.  He realized how much he knew about outlining and shading since he had read so many comic books.  But making your hand actually do it was harder than it seemed.  However, it was much easier than actually drawing it.

She had turned her pad of paper to an empty page and was using a pencil to sketch something again.  He looked over and saw that it was the same character that he was inking, but in a different position.  Am I making a comic book?  Lex wondered.  

"Are you really going to make this?" Lex asked in a soft voice.  Was that a hopeful question?  

She stopped and looked at him, "No, Mr. Luthor, we are going to make this."

He smiled at her.  He had one hell of a vocabulary, but there was no way to tell her what this meant to him.  It was one step down from actually being a comic book hero.  

"That is, if my creative collaborator and my inking staff feel up to it," she added as she looked back down to her paper and began drawing again.

He chuckled at that.  Lex Luthor: starving comic book artist.  He couldn't help but wonder what she was putting off now that she had spontaneously taken up this project with him.  What was she working on before that she wouldn't let him see?  He leaned over his paper and started working again.  

He was aware that the comfortable and familiar silence had fallen between them again.  Occasionally, she would break the silence and ask his opinion on the plot or minor details.  

After a while, he began having ideas about their short story comic book.  At first he was hesitant to say anything, but soon he was speaking freely.  She helped him develop his ideas and encouraged him.  They worked out the whole plot while they sat there; she would scribble it down in a different section of her notebook.  Now all they had to do was finish drawing it.  …Which with his limited experience would take a while – drawing, inking, coloring...  

He noticed how fast she worked.  The manager from his invoice office said she worked fast there too.  Maybe she was some type of prodigy – it would explain why someone so young would be supervising people twice her age.  But nothing in her file indicated that.  It must just be experience.

"Hungry?" she asked him.  

Lex looked up from his inking and at his watch, it was exactly 5pm.  Odd, he didn't notice her look at her watch or the clock on the wall.  "Yeah," he hadn't noticed until she said something.  They put down their respective utensils and stood.  

They began walking toward the dinning room.  "Have you ever considered a career in comic books, Mr. Luthor?" she asked him with a small smile.  Before he could answer, she continued, "If this whole multi-billion dollar corporation thing doesn't work out for you, I mean."

"I wouldn't do it without my partner," he said looking at her sideways.  He was referring to their conversation earlier.  He wondered why she wouldn't take that job and Keldora if she was so good at making comic books and loved it so much.  And why, so she could work in some stuffy government office?  

"If I ever change my mind, you'll be the first to know," she said despondently.  

"Do you even want to work for Keldora?" he had to know.  He heard the tone in her voice.

He was asking her what she wanted for herself.  No one ever cared.  At least, she didn't think that they did.  They didn't ask if they did.  They cared about what she commanded or wanted for the team or the good of the nation or world.  She stared straight ahead as she walked.  "It's every comic book maker's dream to work for Keldora," she answered vaguely.

"That isn't what I asked you," he pointed out.

She looked at him, "I told you what the dream was.  I don't want to have to run my ideas by a committee or follow some procrustean comic book code.  I want my own company – maybe my own store with…" Her voice trailed off.

"With what?" he asked.  He wanted to hear about her dream.

"It would be," she started, "like a refurbished warehouse."  She held her hands out in front of her, like she was holding a scale model of what she was talking about.  He couldn't help but smile to himself.  Then he nodded thoughtfully as he opened the door to the dining room.  


	21. Chapter 21

She was surprised that dinner was already on the table.  And she was pleased to see that the place settings were in the same position as when she moved to sit next to Lex the night before.  "The main floor would be all the merchandise and some chairs and couches to relax in.  And there would be a second floor that wrapped around the inside of the warehouse, like a wide balcony," she tried to clarify her vision.  

Lex nodded again as he pulled out her chair.  

She sat down after a barely noticeable hesitation.  She was very slowly adjusting to this chivalry thing…  

"What's there?" he asked, pushing her chair in.

"More chairs and couches," she watched him seat himself, "but mostly gaming tables."

"Do you think that you'll ever get to do it?" he asked as they both started eating.  

Never, I'll be dead before then, she thought.  She knew it was realistic, the way she lived, the chances she took.  No one could expect to see a ripe old age at the rate she was going.  "One day," she said, "I just don't think today is that day."  It was getting easier though, to do her job – almost too easy as of late.

Lex wished that he could understand why today wasn't that day.  He thought to himself for a moment.  

It was as though she was reading his thoughts.  She knew he was going to push the subject if she didn't change it.  He was – persistent.  "I'm slightly disappointed with you, Mr. Luthor," she said as she looked over the vast expanse of table before them.  He looked up at her, elbow on the table, and his empty fork a few inches from his mouth.  "I thought you would try to impress me by getting a big table in here before dinner tonight.  It looks like we'll just have to cut that god damn tree down ourselves," she said almost absently, as though she was just speaking her inner monologue.  She allowed herself only the faintest of smiles.

She watched as a small smile slowly found its way to his lips.  She watched the smile increase until it was almost Clark-like in magnitude – about 900,000 watts.  Then he turned his head away and moved his fork-holding hand to cover his mouth.  

She didn't really know what he was doing so she continued to watch him.  He moved his left hand to his stomach.  She noticed him shaking – no.  He was laughing, genuinely laughing.  Then she heard it; it was wonderfully harmonious.  

Well, she knew as soon as you made a sound, he thought.  He turned to face her again, laughing.  He hadn't laughed like that since -- he didn't know when.  He didn't know why it stuck him as being so amusing.  She had said funnier and cleverer things to him since they had met.  Maybe that was why he was laughing so hard.  He never took the time out to before and now he was laughing for all of her humorous comments – for her.  

She looked at him with a wide-eyed expression.  She didn't analyze if her shock had come from the fact that she had made him actually laugh or that she had just witnessed perfect beauty for the only time in her life.  She had known that he was an Adonis just by looking at him, of course.  But there was something about knowing that he was truly happy, even if it was just for the moment, which made him even more appealing.

His laughter subsided.  He wondered if he should take her hand and just hold it; he didn't know how else to thank her.  Well, he did, but so far she didn't seem interested in that sort of -- interaction.  Maybe I should fake choking so she will have to give me the Heimlich, he thought to himself.  He had a vivid vision of her arms wrapped around him…

She didn't want to bring attention to his laughing.  He obviously kept such expressions of emotion to himself or just didn't have them at all.  But yet, she wanted to hear that sound again, see that smile again…

"Now that suits you," she smiled and tried to convey her honesty at the same time.  He looked down at the food he was eating, still a small hint of a smile on his face.  She decided not to mention it further.  Was that embarrassment or just modesty because he himself knew that laughter made him even more attractive?  

Just as they had the previous night, they talked as they slowly ate dinner.  Lex wondered how he had ever enjoyed a meal without her, without the meaningful conversation.  

When they finished, she began to stack the dishes as she had done the night before.  She was just sitting there anyway.

"Have you ever considered a career bussing tables?" he asked as they stood.

"You mean if the whole government minion thing doesn't work out for me?  Only every day of my life," she said with a smile.

They began walking toward his office.  He looked her seriously.  "You are not a minion, or a lackey," he added remembering her earlier statement.

"Can I tell you a secret, Mr. Luthor?" she said looking at him sideways as they walked down the hallway.

He looked at her in a you-know-you-can way.

"I don't believe that you believe what you just said," she said in a matter of fact way.

He looked at her as though she had hurt him, "I would not have…"

"I think that you believe that the government is something to be – outsmarted or circumvented.  It is conducted in an inefficient bureaucratic way that, in the long run, only damages your bottom line and all of its employees perpetuate that system," she said with little emotion.

He had thought that before he met her, and most of it was still true.  But something about her told him that she didn't perpetuate that system.  She was different; his employees had told him how efficient she was.  "I never said that," he said.

"Well, you should, because it would be true.  99.9% of government is exactly like that," she said.  The other .1% were people like her who thrived on efficiency and effectiveness.  But then, people like her didn't really exist -- officially.  And because of that, they didn't have to obey the same rules as, well, anyone else.

He allowed himself a smirk.  At least she could see the flaws of her surroundings.  Most people that are immersed in something cannot see its defects.  

They entered the room in which they had been so diligently making their comic book.  Rhone walked to the table and began to pick up the art supplies that were littering the area that they had occupied.  

"Are we finished?" he asked coolly.  He didn't let his voice betray the sudden mixture of disappointment and melancholy that he was feeling.  

"I think that I'll allow my gracious host some much deserved rest," she said as she was carefully packing away the actual pages of the comic book.  

He had to admit, he was tired.  But he knew that he wouldn't sleep that much anyway.  He would rather spend that time with her, not alone in this castle.  No, he would rather spend that time with her than doing anything else that he could think of.  However, she didn't sleep at all whereas he had gotten a small nap in.  "If you're tired, maybe you shouldn't drive," he thought quickly.  "I'll have a room made up for you," he suggested as he began to walk for the phone in his office to call Mark and have him prepare a room.  

"That's unnecessary, Mr. Luthor," she said from behind him.  It really was, considering she didn't sleep.  She didn't want to leave, but knew that he needed the rest.  And as far as he knew, she needed it too.  She had to go along with that.  She finished packing up the things that had been left on the table and began walking towards the door.  

"The only thing that is unnecessary is your persistence in calling me Mr. Luthor," then he added softly, "It's Lex."  He didn't know why she insisted on calling him Mr. Luthor.  They were friends, she had said so herself.  That is definitely grounds for a first name basis.  He accompanied her to the adjacent room where he had to move swiftly to pick up her laptop case before she did.  He was slightly disappointed that she remembered to take it with her.  

She didn't acknowledge his comment about calling him Lex.  Normally, she would call anyone whatever they wanted, but he was different.  Calling him Lex meant that they were really friends.  Even though she didn't mind it and she knew that they were, she had even called him a friend last night.  But for some reason, it would also be admitting that she couldn't just get up and walk out of the room and never see him again.  It would mean that she was attached to him.  And she just couldn't have that.  It was better this way.

They began walking out of the room, towards her car.  "Can I expect you for dinner tomorrow?" he asked.

"I think I've imposed enough for one week," she said with a faint smile.

Imposed?  His time with her was something that he had come to look forward to.  …Ok, so he hadn't been even remotely this happy since before his mother died.  But this definitely felt different than a mother and son bond and he was glad for that.  No one could ever replace that; he didn't want them to.  "You could never impose," he said hoping to convey his honestly.  "And besides," he added, "We have to work on our – project."  He pointed to the portfolio she was carrying.  

She smiled.  "We really need a name for it," she said.  He was looking at her, waiting for an answer to his dinner invitation.  After a moment she looked at him sideways, "As if I would say no."

"And you still have to show me that," he hesitated, "Masterpiece Theater show."

"You mean Mystery Science Theater 3000," she said with a small laugh.

"That," he said with a small amount of discomfiture.  

"You know, you would hate it," she said, looking straight ahead.  He looked at her, waiting for an explanation.  "It has a lot of references to pop culture and…" she trailed off.

"And what?" he asked.

"And it's funny," she said.  

What did that mean?  Like he didn't have a sense of humor?  He laughed today for god's sake.  Hard.  What more did she want?  "Your predilection for it speaks very highly of it," Lex said smoothly.

"And you value my unrefined opinion so highly?" she asked with a smirk.

"Yes," he said as he opened the front door for her.

"Thanks," she hesitated for a moment before she walked out the door.  It was just too damn weird having someone doing that for you all the time -- not that it wasn't nice…

They began walking towards her car.  Lex admired it from afar.  He wondered what he would have to do to get a ride in it – or how much it would cost to take it off her hands.

"So, when should I expect to see you around the plant?  Two, three o'clock?" she joked as she opened her car door and threw her portfolio inside.

He chuckled.  "If I decide to get an early start," he joked as he handed her the laptop case.  He placed his hand on the open door of her car.

She smiled at him as she got into her car.  "Thanks for dinner.  I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Luthor," she said.

He gave her a small smile and shut the door.  Lex, he said his name to himself as she pulled away.

Lex walked into his bedroom, quite tired.  He gave a glance to the red sheets and matching comforter that adorned his bed.  In the few hours since Rhone left, he had completed some paper work that he had been neglecting.  He never realized how boring it was before.  Well, he knew it was boring, but the tedious nature of it was especially evident today.  Maybe because of what you are comparing it to, he thought to himself.

He pulled off his clothes and opened a dresser drawer.  He slowly stepped into the pair of silky red boxer shorts he retrieved.  Brought on by the fresh clean scent of the drawer, Lex remembered the way Rhone had smelled him.  The memory brought a small smile to his lips.  He could not place what she smelled like.  

He had found his way into his bathroom and started brushing his teeth.  Lex looked around the bathroom as he brushed.  When finished, he picked up a few of the toiletries that he had and smelled them.  None of them were even close to what Rhone smelled like.  All of the products smelled – artificial.  Maybe her smell was unique, like her.  He smiled faintly again.  But it reminded him of something, something from a long time ago.  What was it?  


	22. Chapter 22

"Hey, guys," Clark said as he walked into The Torch office.  Chloe was at her computer, typing away.  Pete was standing behind her, looking over her shoulder.  The early morning sun was causing a glare off of the monitor.

"Ok, Clark, tell me what you think," she gestured toward her computer screen, not looking at him.

Clark began to walk over to his friends.  Pete said, "I don't know, Chloe.  I thought this was a school newspaper, not a tabloid."

Clark stood next to Pete and looked over Chloe's shoulder.  It was another meteor theory article.  "Maybe you should save those for when something weird actually happens," Clark suggested.

"Clark's right, it's been pretty quiet around here lately," Pete was thankful that Clark agreed with him.  Chloe never got upset with him if he erred on the side of their mutual friend.

Chloe sighed, "A good journalist…"

She was cut off by a brisk knock on the door.  The three looked over in unison.  A girl with shoulder length chestnut hair stood in the doorway, holding a white envelope.

"Adra," Chloe said in a mildly surprised voice.  Clark offered a closed lip smile and Pete gave a small wave.  The girl in the door was rarely seen outside of a classroom or the school agriculture department.  Chloe stood up and began to walk over to her.  "Is there something I can do for you?" Chloe asked.

Adra stoically looked around the room and appeared to be committing everything in it to memory.  "This was delivered to the agriculture green house by mistake," she said plainly as she offered an envelope to Chloe.

Chloe gave Adra her best smile as she went to take the envelope from the girl.  There was a large bandage on Adra's hand.  "Ouch, are you all right?" Chloe asked as she took the envelope.  She looked at the envelope; it was addressed to "Ms. Sullivan, Care of The Torch."  

"Fine," Adra said.  

"What happened?" Pete asked.

She sighed.  "I was out collecting soil samples from a meteor crash site, to see how it might have affected some of the local flora.  I slipped and cut myself on one of the damn things," she said, slightly annoyed.

Clark instinctively took a step back – no one noticed.  He didn't feel sick, but he had been in some less-than-good situations where things had started out in a similar way.  

Adra turned and left without another word.  "Adra Arden, now there is someone for your Wall of Weird, Chloe," Pete said as he looked at the now empty doorway.  

Chloe didn't hear Pete.  She had opened the envelope and was reading the letter inside.

Clark noticed the smile on her face.  "What is it?" he asked.

"This is so thoughtful," she said as though Clark and Pete had vanished.  They both took a few steps toward her to find out what was going on.  She folded up the letter and held up a check for two hundred dollars.

"What's that for?" Pete asked.

"I was at the office of the Smallville Ledger a few days ago, doing some research.  To make a long story short, I started talking to some of the people that work there about how sometimes we don't have the supplies we need because of the budget.  And they took up a little collection for the budding journalists at Smallville High," she said with a laugh.

"That's great, Chloe," Clark said with a smile.

"What are you going to spend it on?" Pete asked, nudging her.

"If you are implying that I would embezzle it," she said with a pause, "You're sadly mistaken.  I think I am just going to pick up some things that we need around here."

"What, like thumbtacks?" Pete made an obvious look to The Wall of Weird.  Clark had to stifle a laugh.

"Come with me to cash it after school and help me decide?" Chloe offered to her two companions.  Clark and Pete both nodded.

Lex walked past his assistant.  He was putting the bottled water he held in one hand in his jacket pocket, making sure not to spill the coffee in his other hand.  He didn't look at her, still slightly perturbed from the events that transpired yesterday.  "Mr. Luthor," she began.  

He stopped and looked at her with the words "You're fired" poised to leave his lips.  

"Gabe Sullivan is in your office," she said plainly, handing him a few messages.  

Damn.  He had completely forgotten that he was scheduled to do an overview of the entire plant today.  He had plans for today – like taking a certain supervising invoice auditor out to a nice lunch.  

The plant was huge; taking a normal tour of it would take hours.  But with Gabe Sullivan leading the way, Lex realized he might not see the light of day – ever again.  Gabe was a nice guy, but he took things around here a little too seriously.  Like processing manure was the most important thing that had and will ever happen.  He never spared details about anything or realized that there were certain people who didn't find his puns very amusing.  More like tedious.

Lex's assistant watched him as he went through a range of exasperated emotions.  It wasn't that she didn't sympathize; she knew Gabe Sullivan and his infamous tours or his explanations of – well, anything.  

Lex let out a barely audible sigh and turned to head for his office and a very long day.

Lex's assistant was on the phone at her desk.  Rhone walked up to the desk and leaned against it, waiting for her to finish her conversation.  She adjusted the artist's tube on her back as she waited.  

As soon as she hung up the phone she turned to Rhone.  "Mr. Luthor isn't in his office," she said with a sorry look.  She was old enough to realize that the two of them complemented each other nicely.  The few other women she had met that her employer associated with were – snotty.  And that was putting it nicely.

"Is he out to lunch?" Rhone asked trying to sound nonchalant.  It was a little past noon and very possible.  She was disappointed – no, she was just wondering why he hadn't called for her, like he had every other day that she was here…  

"No, he had to take an internal inspection of the plant today -- with Gabe Sullivan.  He left as soon as he got here, around 9," she looked at her watch.  

"Well, Claire, they must be having a lot of fun together, to be gone so long," Rhone said with a sarcastic smile.  She had had a few brief interactions with Gabe Sullivan when she arrived early in the morning.  Nice enough, but he was a little too committed to fertilizer and a cliché set of jokes.

Lex's assistant knew it was all right to laugh; this girl had a sense of humor.  "Knowing Gabe, they will be 'having fun together' until it's time for dinner," she said, making quotation marks with her fingers when she said 'having fun together.'

"That bad?" Rhone asked.  Claire raised her eyebrows and nodded.  "Is this a – compulsory tour that Mr. Luthor is on?" Rhone was still trying to sound indifferent.  

"Honey, for people with that much money, nothing is compulsory," Claire said with a wry smile.  

"Right you are," Rhone smiled.  "See you later," she turned to leave.

Rhone walked down the empty hallway holding a manila folder.  She listened for anyone that might be around.  She didn't have a valid excuse to be in this part of the plant.  Not that she couldn't bull shit one easily enough.  Security at Plant Number Three was probably worse than what Lex had at the castle.  She shook her head at that thought.  

She had seen the blue prints for this place too.  She came to a door and listened in an attempt to hear anything on the other side.  She heard – a television.  She shook her head again and rolled her eyes.  She straitened her dark green pants suit.  She opened the door, held up the folder, and was about to explain she was lost to – no one.  

She looked around the room, with the exception of a large number of surveillance monitors, a small television/VCR combo that was showing entertainment of the – strictly adult nature -- on a desk, and an empty office chair, she was alone.  She felt the cup of coffee on the desk – cold.  No one had been in here for a while.  And from what she had seen of the general quality of the security around here, they were probably outside playing badminton or, from the nature of their viewing habits, on a very important phone call to a 1-900 number.  

She sat in the office chair and started looking at the countless surveillance monitors.  She scanned each of them quickly.  

There he was, Rhone noticed that the monochromatic monitors made him look completely white.  His bald colorless head contrasted sharply with his dark jacket and pants.  He was lazily standing with his hands in his pockets.  He looked completely bored walking behind Gabe Sullivan.  

She watched him for a moment – a long moment.  She caught her hand moving up to the monitor.  She instantly stopped and shook her head.  What was she going to do, touch the monitor because he couldn't stand to be touched by her?  At least no one was around to see that.  She looked at the label on the monitor, Main Control Room.

She turned to leave the room, manila folder still in hand.  She stopped and turned to the adult entertainment that was – screaming on the only color television in the room.  She stopped the tape and reluctantly took it out of the VCR.  She set it on the desk and slowly poured the cup of cold coffee over it with a grin.  She wiped the hand she had touched the tape with on her pants and walked out the door.


	23. Chapter 23

Gabe Sullivan was talking, as he had been for the past – Lex looked at his watch for the nineteenth time – four hours.  He took his hand out of his pocket and ran it over his scalp.  If he had to hear one more manure pun…

One of the doors to the room opened and everyone turned to look.  Gabe even paused in the middle of a fascinating story about overhauling one of the processing machines.  

Lex looked up from his position of one hand in his pocket, the other on the back of his neck, and looking at the floor.  A smile immediately spread over Lex's face.  He wanted to run over and hug her.  It felt like he hadn't seen her in days.  The thought briefly crossed his mind that he actually had been on this tour listening to Gabe Sullivan talk for days, but quickly dismissed it.  He had looked at his watch so many times, he would have known.  

"Mr. Luthor," she held up a manila folder that she was holding.  She began to walk over to him.

Lex noticed that Gabe's droning was still at a halt.  "Rhone, what can I do for you?" Lex said coolly, despite his thoughts.  

"I hate to drag you away from Mr. Sullivan," she started, "But we have run into a – small problem."  She held up the manila folder again.  She said the words "small problem" seriously to convey that there was a severity to the situation.

Lex straitened and lied, "Gabe, I'm sorry we have to cut this short…" He wondered what he could have possibly done now.  He wasn't doing anything else as – questionable as the particle accelerator.  

"Certainly, Mr. Luthor," Gabe said a little disheartened.  However, he knew that this invoice thing for the government was something that Luthor Corp. wanted completed in the least amount of time possible.  And if there was a problem, he didn't want to be the focus of any kind of residual anger.

Rhone turned and walked out stoically.  Lex followed her, taking in her displeased demeanor.  He followed her out the door and shut it behind them.  "What's wrong?" Lex asked concerned.

She knew no one was around, so she turned to face him and handed him the folder.  

Lex opened the folder, but there were no papers in it.  It was completely empty.  There was some small print on the inside.  Lex brought it up closer to his face to read it.  It said:  "Gotcha."  He looked up and she was grinning widely.  His concerned face turned into a wide smile.  

"Nothing is wrong?" he was still smiling at her.  She had him worried for a moment.  He didn't want her to be mad at him or anything.  She shook her head to let him know that nothing was wrong.  "You were – convincing," Lex said, doing a poor job at pretending he was angry at her little stunt.

"If you would like, you can go back and hear about the epic struggle of Man vs. Manure from Mr. Sullivan…" she began.

"Since I'm already out here, maybe we should just call it a day," Lex said, still grinning.  She saved him.  

They began walking down the hallway.  "So, how was my performance?" she asked.  WE should just call it a day? She felt the tips of her ears get hot.  What the hell is that?  She must be – malfunctioning.  She concentrated and returned her heart rate to normal.

"Believable," Lex said with a faint grin.

She was quite the actress.  She had done a few missions that required her to do some undercover work.  She looked at him uneasily, "I didn't know if I should have."

"Should have what?" Lex looked at her as they walked.

"Mount a bogus expedition to retrieve my partner from the clutches of boredom," she said after a moment.  

"You can save me anytime," he said.  He immediately realized what he had said.  He was going to add something to his statement, but decided against it.  He meant what he said on any level that she could take it.  

She continued to control her heart rate.  "I'll remember you said that," she said honestly.  Most people thought that they were too good to be saved – until shit hit the fan and they fell apart like a balsa wood chair.  

Exactly what kind of a response was that?  It wasn't a rejection; that was for sure.  He looked down at her hand – just reach for it and hold it.  It frustrated him that when he was around her it was like he was ten years old again.  Debating whether or not to hold a woman's hand?  

They walked past Lex's secretary.  Rhone gave a quick wave to Claire.  

Claire watched the two of them leave, side by side.  She watched her employer quickly step in front of the young woman and open the door for her.  Rhone hesitated, like she had done every other time Claire had seen him do something of that nature for her.  But what she searched for and found, was the way they looked at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking – when they thought no one was looking.  Claire smiled thoughtfully to herself as they walked out the door.  

They walked toward the parking lot, still walking next to one another.  "So," Rhone said with a pause, "What do I get?"

"What do you mean, what do you get?" he really didn't know what she was talking about.  

She unlocked her car door.  She noticed that he followed her to her car – last time, he went directly to his car.  "Yeah, Clark pulls you out of a sinking car, you buy him a truck.  I saved you from a fate worse than death, The Saga of Fertilizer by Gabe Sullivan.  What do I get?" she was smiling widely.  She was standing with her car door ajar, as if any moment she would open it fully and get inside.  

"What do you want?" Lex asked softly, as he put a hand on the car door, much like the previous evening.  

Do not answer that, Rhone, she told herself.  She didn't know if she could answer it if she wanted to.  Well, she could.  It was standing right in front of her – but it was impossible.  No one can ever forgive what you are, she thought to herself.  Not to mention, he is Lex Luthor: stunning, rich, powerful, super model magnet…  

"I think I'll just leave it as the son of a billionaire owing me a large favor," Rhone said with a smile.  He chucked at her response and then there was a pause between them.  "Audience," she said out of nowhere.

He gave her a quizzical look.  "We have an audience," she clarified.  

Lex looked to the building.  He saw his assistant doing some unnecessary window cleaning.  "I think I'm going to put an ad in the paper," Lex said with a slight smile.

"I like her – great sense of humor," Rhone said, obviously referring to the incident that caused Lex to blush the day before.  

He chuckled as he looked down to the ground, "If by great sense of humor, you mean impudent."

"That," she began, "is exactly what I meant."

He looked up, "See you in an hour?"

She reached into the tiny back seat of her car and pulled out one of her standard fitted t-shirts.  "Normally, I'm prepared like a boy scout," she said.

"I have some papers to sign at the Smallville Savings and Loan.  It shouldn't take long," Lex remembered one of the messages his assistant had handed him earlier.  

She didn't exactly have anything to do in the meantime, and she liked being around the hairless magnificent.  "I'll meet you there," she opened her car door.

Lex wasn't expecting her to say that.  He smiled, "Alright."  She really did like spending time with him.  At least some of his – opinions were reciprocated.  

She put her artist's tube and the t-shirt in the car.  "Bye," she couldn't help but smile at him.

Lex held the door as she got in her car.  He placed his other arm on the roof and leaned into the car slightly, "Bye."  He shut the door and took as step back watching her start her car and pull away.  

I don't believe I just did that, Lex thought to himself.  That was so corny.  Maybe he would be lucky and she would mistake it for suave.


	24. Chapter 24

Rhone was sitting in her car outside the Smallville Savings and Loan.  A few people were walking by and staring at her car for extended periods of time.  She was used to that kind of response when people saw it.  She didn't expect any different from people whose exposure to automobiles was rarely different than a pickup truck.  

Her thoughts drifted to Lex and his behavior before he shut her car door.  How -- charming.  She smiled to herself.  

She noticed a familiar group of three approaching.  She got out of her car, slung her artist's tube over her shoulder, locked the door, and closed it behind her.  She gave the group a wave.  The tall one smiled at her.  It's a good thing it isn't that sunny, I could have been blinded, Rhone thought with a smile.  The other two offered smiles and waves, but Rhone didn't feel that her corneas were in any serious jeopardy from them.  

They began to walk over to her.  "Hey guys, how's the chemistry?" she asked.

"Better, thanks to your help," Pete said.

"Well, if you ever need anything else," Rhone offered.  She noticed that Chloe was still smiling.  She looked at her with a small smile, "Are you alright?"

Chloe held up a check and jumped a little in excitement.  It was for two hundred dollars.  Rhone looked at the elated blond in front of her, remembering when that was a lot of money to her too.  

"The local paper sent it to me to buy supplies for The Torch!" she said, still very exited.

Rhone nodded with a smile, "So what are you going to buy?"

"I haven't decided yet, we were just on our way to cash it.  Then we were going to decide," Chloe said.

"What are you doing here, Rhone?" Clark asked curiously.

"I'm meeting Lex here," Rhone stated.  She immediately regretted it when she saw the 1,000,000-watt smile emanating from Clark.  

"I haven't seen you the last few days," Clark said with a raised eyebrow, maintaining his grin. 

Rhone noticed Pete shaking his head.  She looked at him questioningly.  

Clark saw what this could lead to, Pete going into his speech about Luthor Corp. and the ill-begotten cream corn factory.  "Well, we have to spend Chloe's new found fortune," Clark said as he began to lead his friends toward the bank.

Rhone thought it odd, but heard squealing tires and turned to look at the obvious source.  "See you inside," she said not looking at them.

Clark allowed himself another large grin as he walked away.  He liked Rhone – and Lex was his best friend…

Lex parked next to Rhone's car.  He noticed Clark, Pete, and Chloe walking into the bank.  It had been a few days since he had seen Clark.  He hoped that the farm boy didn't feel as though he were ignoring him.  Surely, Clark could relate to falling captive to a stunning and charming woman – that actually made comic books and custom cars. 

As he locked his car, he stole an appreciative glance at Rhone.  He turned and started to walk toward her.  "I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long," he said jokingly as he approached her.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Luthor, the wait for good company is always too long," she said as they walked side by side toward the bank door.  Did she just say that?  

Lex smiled as he looked down at the ground.  He didn't really know what to say.  "Thanks," he regained his composure, "On my way here, I was thinking the same thing."  He didn't understand the effects she had on him.  Normally he was so collected, but she just made him feel…  He didn't know what she did to him; that was the problem.  Ok, so he didn't really deem it as a problem.

            It was her turn to smile at the ground.  When she was with him, she forgot whom – what she was.  And she liked – no, loved it.  

He was holding the bank door open for her.  She looked at him for a moment.  Just touch him, she thought to herself.  Find an excuse to brush his hand with yours.  No, he hates to be touched, at least by you.

She smiled at him as she walked through the door.  He simply smiled back for lack of coherent complements about the beauty of her smile.  He followed her, letting the door close behind him, watching her walk in front of him.  

Rhone noticed a man in a small office look out his window and quickly hang-up the phone.  He hurried out and said, "Mr. Luthor, thank you for coming by on such short notice.  I know that you are…" Rhone was happy when Lex interrupted him, she realized that the man could probably kiss billionaire ass for quite a long time.  At least Lex wasn't the type to enjoy it.  Lex shook hands with the man.

"I assume you have everything ready?" Lex asked looking at his watch to imply he was in a hurry. 

Nice touch, Lex, Rhone thought.  She noticed Clark was looking at them, still smiling that blinding smile.  What was he smiling like that for anyway?

Lex turned to Rhone, "Two minutes."

Rhone smiled and nodded, hoping to imply that she would wait – a long time for him if she thought it would matter.  For some reason, she knew that that message was probably lost in a simple nod.  It was probably better that it was.

Lex began to follow the bank employee to an office and gave an acknowledging nod to Clark on the other side of the bank.  Clark returned it, beaming smile wider than usual.  At least I know he doesn't feel ignored, Lex thought.  It's nice to have a friend that understands.  Hell, it was nice to have a real friend.  He realized that he had been quite lucky to find Clark and Rhone in this town that he had once considered a curse.  He stole another glance at Rhone, more like a blessing.  

Pete and Chloe were turned toward a teller, discussing how they wanted to receive the two hundred dollar bounty Chloe had acquired.  Clark began to walk toward Rhone without being noticed by his two companions.  

"You know, Clark, if you keep smiling like that, your face is going to stay that way," Rhone joked as they got to be of conversation distance from one another.

"Well, I just…  Rhone, what's wrong?" Clark saw her flinch and turn suddenly toward the door.  


	25. Chapter 25

Clark looked past Rhone to the door; four men walked through it, one after another.  They were wearing all black with matching ski masks.  Clark used his X-ray vision and saw concealed guns.  What should I do?  I can't use my powers; there are people around…

How cliché, Rhone thought to herself with an inner sigh.  She watched as each of them pulled out a gun.  And I was worried for a minute there, she thought with a strange sense of disappointment.  

"Alright everyone, put your hands up!" the man in the front yelled loudly.  Rhone silently thanked him for claiming the status of the leader.  The shortest of the men locked the door behind them.

If this gets anymore cliché, I might kill them for fun, Rhone thought dryly.  She reluctantly put up her hands.  She slowly looked back over her shoulder at Clark.

Oh my god, what am I going to do?  Clark's eyes were wide and his face was covered with worry and conflict.  Everyone will see me if I do something.  What good are my abilities if I can't use them to help people?

"Just go with it, Clark," Rhone gave a whisper over her shoulder.  She was pleased that everyone had followed the orders of the second-rate thieves.  She wondered if one of the tellers had a chance to hit the silent alarm.  Well, no matter.

"What?" Clark whispered in shock.  Surely she was having the same conflict that he was.  Would she use her powers to defuse this situation?  No, she was the one who told him to hide his abilities and that before his family, only one other person knew of her powers.  So, she wouldn't just use the relic here.  Maybe she would just let this thing run its' course.  It was the most logical thing to do.  Yeah.

The tallest of the perpetrators started going into the back offices and rooting out a few employees.  Rhone saw Lex and the man with which he had gone into the back office led out into the lobby with everyone else – at gunpoint.  Rhone squinted slightly.  She wasn't willing to take the time to analyze her reaction to this treatment of Lex.

Everyone else was being handcuffed behind the back.  Rhone made sure not to resist in any way as she was handcuffed in the same fashion and sat down on the floor with everyone else.  Just let it happen, Rhone, they aren't worth it, she said to herself.  The federal government insures all of this money.  No one loses anything.  

Lex was the last person handcuffed and sat on the floor next to Clark.  

It was a Tuesday, so there were only about a dozen people total in the bank.  Rhone didn't hear sirens and the few looks she gave to the glass doors revealed no sign of local law enforcement.  She was amazed at the willingness of people to be victims. 

Chloe was sitting next to Rhone, obviously very upset at the present situation.  The small blonde was shaking.  Rhone was surprised that all of her previous situations had not desensitized her to something as simple as this.  Rhone leaned to her and whispered, "Relax."

Chloe looked to Rhone and tried to smile.  She looked like a deer caught in headlights – petrified.  Rhone analyzed the emotion emanating from this girl; she had forgotten the way normal people reacted to such things.  

"Let's go," the leader said.  Two of the others followed him behind the teller counters, heading for the safe.  The short one was left behind with a gun trained on the handcuffed floor dwellers.  

I don't believe this is happening, Lex thought to himself.  If I weren't a billionaire, I couldn't afford my own insurance premiums.  This shit happens to me way too much.  He struggled for a moment against his handcuffs.  Rhone must be so scared, Lex looked at her across the small circle of people.  She was seated next to Chloe, on the outside of the cluster of people, with her back to him.  

Lex looked at Clark, who was seated next to him.  He was giving Lex a look.  "What?" Lex mouthed as he leaned toward Clark.

Clark leaned back a little bit and looked towards Rhone.  "Now isn't exactly the best time for that," Lex allowed his voice to rise slightly.  Was it because he was being held hostage or because Clark's analysis of his – attachment to Rhone was alarmingly accurate?

"No talking!" the short capturer shouted as he walked over to Lex and pointed his handgun at the bachelor billionaire.  He forcefully bumped the side of Lex's head with the barrel of the gun.

Rhone had easily identified Lex's voice and looked back to see that the man appointed to the lesser task of watching them was harassing him.  Rhone twitched.  "Yeah, they're worried someone might point out how uninspired their bank robbing scheme is," Rhone said dryly.

"Who said that?!?" the man with the gun started circling the hostages, gun pointed down at them.

Lex heard Rhone's voice.  It was the same voice that he had heard her use out in the field, the one that she used when she was that cold and detached person he didn't know the origins of.  What did she think she was doing?

"Someone who would have coordinated with my bank robbing accomplices a little more so we weren't all wearing the same outfit when we knew we were all going to the same place at the same time.  Talk about a fashion faux pas," Rhone remained emotionless.

The man with the gun was standing right in front of her, holding the gun inches from her face.

"Please," she said with disdain and an eye roll.

Everyone was staring at her.  They thought that the pressure of the situation had gotten to her and driven her insane.  What in the hell was she doing?  This was ridiculous, suicide.  Sitting handcuffed on the floor with her knees in front of her with a gun pointed at her, and she was taunting the wielder of the gun.  

"You don't think I'll do it?!?" he robber shouted the question.

She tilted her head, "Didn't your mother teach you to use your inside voice when you're in public?"

Everyone was still staring at her in awkward silence.  She was a little too accustomed to that, she realized.  They must all think that I'm nuts.  She smiled.

The man with the gun didn't know what to do; she was smiling at him.  He took a step backwards.  

About this time, everyone else had his or her mouth open in shock.  Chloe wished that she had been seated next to someone else.  

Pete was trying to remember where he had met Rhone before, between bouts of panic.  He had forgotten about it since the Talon, but her behavior in this situation was bringing a vague memory to the surface.  

Lex wished that he had been seated next to her so he could make her shut up.  He didn't know what he would do if she…  He felt a tight feeling in his chest and shuddered.

Clark was beginning to feel an eerie calm.  She knew what she was doing.  She had too much confidence not to.  Right?

"I don't think that you understand what's going on here, Lady," said the short gun wielder, trying to be intimidating.

"It's Rhone.  -- And I must admit that this is my first domestic hostage situation," Rhone said coolly as she leaned back lazily onto her handcuffed hands, positioning her feet.  It was the truth, she herself had never been held hostage in this country.  Saving other hostages in this country was another thing.

"Who the fuck do you think you're dealing with!?!" he stepped closer to her again and pressed the barrel of the gun to her forehead.

"Someone who would never pull that trigger," she said, still serene.

In an action that was almost hidden by his ski mask, he furrowed his eyebrows, "Why do you think that?"

"Because you haven't yet," she began, "And besides, you rob banks.  You aren't a killer.  If you killed me, you would go to pound-me-in-the-ass-prison for a long time."  As well as being hunted down like an animal by my allies, she thought.  

Still standing over her, the masked man lowered his gun slightly when he thought about what she said.  

"Not to mention, you're holding that piece all wrong," she motioned with her head to his gun.  

He looked away from her to the hand that held the gun.   He turned the gun in his hand so that he could see the side of it and the way he held it.

You have to be kidding, Rhone thought to herself.  I thought this was going to be at least a slight challenge.  She put all of her weight on her left foot and shoved off as hard as she could, kicking straight up with her right leg.  Her Airwalk made powerful contact with his face.  He dropped the gun and staggered back.  

Rhone didn't see the point in letting him regain composure.  She hurried toward him and kicked him in the chest with her left foot.  She had practiced fighting everyway possible, without her hands against an obvious amateur was no big deal.  She wasn't the least bit put off by her present situation.  She could rectify it easily enough, but she wanted some kind of a challenge.  …At least the suit she was wearing was kind of confining.

He staggered back even farther, clutching where he felt the impact of her foot.  It was happening so fast.  She was so strong and really quick.  Fortunately, he had forgotten his head was killing him when she kicked him in the chest.  He was beginning to think that she broke a rib or something.  Why couldn't they have robbed the bank yesterday – when Bruce Lee wasn't going to be here?  He had wanted to rob it yesterday, but no.  

Clark kept his eyes on Rhone.  She never used her abilities on the man in front of her and he had to respect that.  He felt a little empty when he realized that she really didn't need any help -- at least not now.  He looked to Pete who had only a look of intense thought on his face, like he was trying to look right through the two standing figures.

Chloe wished she had her camera.  The young intrepid reporter had reasserted herself, now that the gun was on the floor away from the masked threat.  This was going to be such a story -- worthy of The Daily Planet maybe.

Lex had watched the past few seconds as though it were on television.  He didn't really believe it.  Rhone, his invoice auditing, comic book making, witty beauty was pounding the life out of some criminal that had, until a few moments ago, held a gun to her head – using only her feet.  And she had never even flinched.  In fact, she never even took him seriously, even taunted him.  There was no way that she was acting on adrenaline; those moves were trained.  He knew enough about fencing to see that.  Every movement she made was completely calculated, practiced to perfection.  

Yet, all he could do was watch with a look of dismay.  He was a Luthor, and Luthors don't show dismay.  But – but – this was just incredible.  

This is just boring, Rhone thought to herself.  He's not even fighting back or – even blocking.  She could tell he was bleeding from the nose and about to fall over after only two hits.  Maybe I should let him hit me once so he can keep an ounce of dignity.  

The thief looked up, panting heavily to regain the breath that he just noticed was knocked out of him.  He checked to see how far away he was from the gun on the floor.  

Now why did he have to do that? Rhone wondered with a slight shake of the head.  Why did he have to make me think that he has some kind of murderous intent?  That he would hurt these people like that?  

…Well, whatever gives you your jollies.  But in that case, I have that same right, she thought to herself.  She gave him a few swift kicks to the face with the sole of her shoe.  They weren't kicks that were intended to break bones – odds are his nose was already broken.  They were meant to stun him, almost comparable to a slap.  She bent her leg at the knee as to not make them full force kicks.  

He felt another blow to the face and then just pain.  Everything went black, but he had the feeling that he was still standing.  He knew he was about to pass out – and that dizzy feeling…

Rhone purposefully closed the distance between them.  He was wavering even more severely and his eyes were out of focus – looking in every which direction.  She got within inches of his face and, for a moment, watched him in his daze.  The only look she had on her face was one of mild disgust.  She hadn't fought one so -- weak in a very long time.  

Never taking her eyes off of him, she leaned forward to butt him with her forehead, but not forcefully.  By no means was it a full-fledged head butt, far from it.  It was just a flamboyant way to prove that one of the captors had been easily beaten.  In most cases, she normally didn't bother with an arrogant finishing blow.  But she was also slightly angry that it had been so easy – a waste of her time.  

…And the image of him mildly abusing Lex was still at the forefront of her memory.  She didn't want to admit to herself how heavily that little detail played into her reaction.  

Everyone sitting on the floor was still gaping at what they had witnessed.  The unconscious body of the bank robber hit the floor with a thud.  All eyes watched it fall as if it were in slow motion.

In that instant, Pete remembered Rhone Chade.  He had never met her before; he just knew her name.  He knew of her.  He silently thanked one of his brothers; it was because of him that Pete had the slightest idea of who stood in front of them.  

Still looking at the unconscious body of the thief, Rhone began turning her right arm so her elbow was turned inward.  Then she bent her elbow, while bringing her arms up and over her head so her hands were now in front of her.  

Chloe winced when she saw this feat of flexibility.  She had to have rolled that shoulder out of socket to do that – or she was double jointed…  Ouch…  It didn't seem to bother Rhone at all though, like she performed feats of contortion for amusement.

Rhone wasted no time, these people had to get out of here.  She brought her hands back up to her head and removed the invisible accessory that held up her hair.  She used it to unlock the handcuffs in a matter of seconds.  She removed them from her wrists as a twist of hair fell to the base of her neck.  

She swiftly moved to the man that had led Lex into the back office.  She leaned over him from the front and, just as swiftly, removed his handcuffs upside down.  He was breathing heavily and perspiring.  She leaned down and looked him in the eyes, "Stay right here, just as you are.  When I tell you to, unlock the door," she heard someone coming and looked up, "and everyone get the hell out of here and call the police."

Lex watched her turn and run to a small area of desks.  When she reached the first one, she jumped over it.  She never touched it – just cleared it like it was a small puddle.  Instantly, she was behind it and he was unable to see her.  What was that?  What sort of invoice auditor perpetrates vigilante justice?  Where were all of these – skills coming from?  

Again, Lex ran through the contents of her file in his head.  She was in the reserves, but they didn't train you like this.  They taught you hand-to-hand combat, but nothing on the level that she was doing.  He saw another one of the bank robbers come out of the back, interrupting his thoughts.  

When he could not see his accomplice guarding the hostages, the bank robber hurried out from behind the teller counter.  He saw his accomplice on the floor and went over to him, kneeled to check him with his gun trained on the cluster of people on the floor.  He looked at the hostages, "What the hell happened?!?"  

Satisfied that his friend was alive, he got up and walked over to the group.  He was aiming his gun at them menacingly.  

No one spoke.  They didn't know if they could explain what had just happened.  One minute they were all hostages and the next minute one of them was Jackie Chan or something.  They could all tell that their silence was making masked man even angrier.  

"He started to look faint and the next minute, he just fell over," a voice said.  

All of the hostages and the thief looked for the source.  It was -- Pete?  "Maybe he's really sick," Pete offered.  No one could believe the source of this – fabrication.  …Pete?

The bandit turned and slowly walked back towards his fallen partner, keeping the gun loosely trained in the direction of the hostages – that was impossible, his partner had blood on his face...  When he was halfway there, he stopped abruptly and started to bring his gun around to his front.  

The hostages all saw him move back as if some great force had hit him.  They saw the head of Rhone Chade come up over his head and continue to rise.  Then they noticed her left foot slam into his right shoulder.  At was as if time stood still when she visibly pushed off of that foot and brought her right foot to kick him solidly in the head.  She had such momentum that she went over his head and landed on the floor behind him as he fell.  He didn't move.

She looked at the man that she had taken the handcuffs off of.  "Now," she said firmly.  He just looked at her, he didn't move.  Maybe he didn't hear her – she had given him such a simple set of instructions.  

Lex gazed at her.  Her recent actions had caused her hair to fall well past her shoulders.  But it was wavy – untamed.  It was feral, totally contrasting the way it looked when she had it pulled up.  He wondered how she got it to all stay up with only one pin looking thing.  But then, what would he know about doing hair anyway?  Maybe he could ask Chloe or Lana or -- anyone that had hair.  …She is so exotic – so striking.

Pete stood and nudged the man without handcuffs, "Come on, Man."

Rhone leaned over the man she had just attacked.  She was feeling for a pulse, she hit him harder than she meant to – too much momentum.  Uh-oh…  …Oh, there it is.  She reached for the handgun that was lying beside him and checked the clip.  Well, at least it was loaded.  


	26. Chapter 26

Lex was starting to stand up with everyone else, keeping his eyes on Rhone.  The way she handled the gun was so – experienced, professional.  Everyone began walking to the door.

"Rhone, are you coming?" Clark asked as he was heading out the door with the group, putting Lex in front of him.  

Lex looked back and noticed that she was picking up the other gun that was dropped by the first man she had knocked unconscious.  

"Not a chance," she said stoically as she checked the clip of the other gun, never looking up at them.  

She intended on staying?  Was she insane?  Lex's eyes went wide, "Rhone…"

Pete walked up behind Clark and Lex, "She knows what she's doing."  They both looked at Pete questioningly.  He started to guide them out the door – as much as you can with your arms behind your back, ignoring their looks.  

Pete didn't know why she wanted to stay.  From what he knew of her, this wasn't exactly the kind of thing she had experience in – but she must know what she was doing.  It took a certain breed of person to do what she had done, even if it was only for a little while.  

Clark looked at Pete for an answer.  Pete just looked at him with an, 'I know things you don't' look.  Clark trusted that Pete had a good reason to think Rhone would be all right.  The way that he had made up that excuse as to why the first robber was unconscious was a clue to that.  Not to mention, Clark knew Rhone had – other ways of protecting herself that she might be able to use without an audience.  …That whole kung-fu thing was pretty awesome too.

Normally, Lex tried to stay out of Pete's direct attention.  Ever since Pete had threatened him under the influence of the Nicodemus flower…  But this was different; this is Rhone's life they were talking about – and there was no decent reason for her to stay.  The police could handle this now, especially since they didn't have hostages to bargain with.  Lex looked at Pete in open-mouthed rage, "If you think that we are leaving her here with…"

"Lex, let's go over to the bank manager so he can use your cell to call the police," Clark interrupted as the momentum of the group swept them all out to the sidewalk.  Clark could have easily broken free from the handcuffs at anytime, but decided that it would be too suspicious.  The only person with free hands was the bank manager because Rhone had told him to unlock the door.  

            Rhone wedged one of the guns in the waist of her pants, pressed against her back.  She pulled her top down over the handle so it was concealed.  She placed the two pairs of handcuffs she had, the pair she had been bound with and the other from the man she had freed to unlock the door, into her pants pocket.  She readied the other gun in her right hand.

            She walked around the teller counter to where she had seen the other thieves go.  With her exceptional hearing, she had been able to hear much of what went on back here, while they were working.  There was little conversation and some noises you would expect to hear when someone is trying to crack a safe.  

            The door was open to the room the two remaining rogues were in.  They were bent over the safe with some tools in their hands.  It was a less than flattering position for them, but considering where they were going, they should get used to it.

Rhone looked at them for a moment.  In a way she felt a little bad for them.  Today of all days, they had to rob the Smallville Savings and Loan.  Most likely today was the only day that a one of a kind soldier of fortune would be here to protect its virtue.  Coincidences -- life can definitely chose to throw you a curve ball.  

Oh, well.  She raised the gun she was holding and preceded to aim at the back of the knee of the one closest to her.  She knew she had to shoot them one right after the other.  She didn't want them to get any ideas about picking up their guns on the floor, but she didn't want to hurt them seriously either.

A small smile played across her lips.  She adjusted her aim and fired.  

BANG! BANG!  Two shots were heard outside the Smallville Savings and Loan.  Everyone looked up at the building and began to back away from it slowly.  There were police sirens and a moment later a significant portion of the Smallville Police Force was parked in front of the bank, blocking most of the road.

"Rhone," Lex said quietly.  

Clark looked at his best friend and saw the worry in his face.  He rarely ever saw Lex worried; normally he was so calm and collected.  He always had – plans so things always went his way in the end, lots of them.  Plans to back up plans even.  So, he never had to really worry.

Even Pete's face was starting to betray worry.  Maybe she wasn't the same Rhone Chade he was thinking of.  He had never even thought of that.  

Clark said to everyone, but looked directly at Lex, "She's fine."  Of course she was – right?

Some of the police started to take position behind their parked cars, guns trained on the bank.  Others started to remove the handcuffs from the former hostages.  Then they started taking statements as they led them to the safety of the other side of the street.  

Lex's head was racing.  What just went on in there?  Did he really see what he thought he did?  Maybe he should ask Clark to see if they had both seen the same things.  Perhaps the stress of the situation had caused him to manifest some elaborate story about something else that his mind had – been occupied with.  He replayed the images in his mind:  of Rhone pummeling the short robber with only her feet, of Rhone knocking a man cold with one kick, of Rhone's face framed by beautiful auburn waves…  Was she ok?  Someone do something.  Move, do anything.  He never took his eyes off the door of the Smallville Savings and Loan.  

Clark was gazing at the Smallville Savings and Loan, much like the other members of the crowd he was with.  However, his analysis of the façade of the building was probably much more enlightening.  He saw two skeletons and a solid humanoid shape marching toward the door of the bank.  The two skeletons were limping badly, hands behind their backs, and the opaque figure was walking behind them with a gun pointed at them.  

Lex was giving his statement to a police officer, while stealing glances at the door of the bank.  He stopped suddenly and turned when he saw the door open.  

"Mr. Luthor?" the officer taking his statement tried to get his attention.  

In a silent agreement, Lex and Clark began walking toward the bank.  They saw a few officers throw each of the pre-handcuffed thieves to the ground.  A few others started to slowly move forwards toward Rhone, but she reached into her pocket and pulled something out.  She showed it to the group of officers in front of her.  

Two uniformed officers found their way in front of Clark and Lex.  "We're sorry, you can't get any closer.  It's a crime scene," the older officer said.

"That girl over there is our friend," Clark said with a gesture towards Rhone.

"She has to come down to the station, Police Chief's orders," the younger officer said.

Lex made a note of their nametags.  They could now officially consider themselves between jobs.  "Is she in some kind of trouble for stopping a bank robbery and apprehending the perpetrators?" Lex asked bitterly.  There was no way he would let her be in any real trouble for this, she didn't do anything wrong.  Even if she had, she was in his good graces; that gave her certain -- leeway.  

Chloe and Pete walked up behind them, listening to the conversation.

"No one said that, Mr. Luthor," the older officer began, "In a situation like this, they usually have to file some reports."

Clark and Lex looked at one another in curiosity.  Lex voiced what they both were questioning, "They?"

Now the officers looked at one another briefly.  "Please stay back, this is a crime scene," they said in unison as they ushered Clark, Lex, Chloe, and Pete backwards to the side of the street where statements were being given.  

"What did he mean by that, Clark?  '…They usually have to file some reports?" Chloe asked in slightly higher voice than usual.  Clark knew what that meant.  She wanted some Pulitzer Prize winning story out of this whole thing.  And considering it wasn't about meteor rocks…

Clark looked at Lex, who had his jaw set and was staring ahead angrily.  Clark realized that half of the Smallville Police Force was about to become unemployed.  He turned back toward the bank to see Rhone getting into her car with – the Chief of Police?  The black sports car quickly pulled out of its' parking place and sped down the road.

Ok, Pete really didn't understand the turn that this had taken.  How would the police know about her anyway?  There had to be more to this than he knew because if she was…

"Pete, what is it?" Chloe had broken the silence among them.  

Pete felt three sets of eyes turn to him, "Huh?"

Chloe narrowed her eyes at him, "One minute you're pushing the limits of a maniac by making up some lie about his unconscious partner and the next you're a total space cadet."  They watched the crowd of people begin to thin.

"I'm sorry if this life threatening situation has me acting a little weird," Pete tried to quip.

Clark wondered if Pete knew about Rhone's powers.  She had said that only her Sensei and his family knew…  He must know something else.  Clark joined Chloe and narrowed his eyes, "Spill it, Pete."  He had known Pete way too long not to see through that.

Pete looked at each of them, to Chloe, to Clark, and briefly to Lex…  Lex was giving him a similar look as the rest of them.  He glanced at the ground, "It was a long time ago," Pete started.  "Remember when I asked her if I knew her at The Talon that day?" He asked Clark and Chloe.

Clark paused for a moment and nodded slowly.  He thought that he remembered.  

"Pete, you ask every girl that." Chloe said in a slightly exasperated tone.

The three high school students noticed the sharp look Lex gave Pete when Chloe gave her reply.  Was Lex just being protective of his friend or…?

"No, I really thought that I knew her," Pete shook his head.  A little because he was having a hard time explaining himself, but mostly because of his friends' analysis of his interactions with the opposite sex.  "But when I saw her do – that," he gestured to the bank, "I realized that I just knew her name."  Everyone was still looking at him.  

"Well?" They were surprised to hear Lex's agitated voice.

"…It's a little hard to explain – and I'm not sure if it's even her.  It could be a completely different Rhone Chade," Pete added quickly.

            "Pete!" Chloe could no longer bear the fact that Pete had information about a story and he wasn't sharing.  A few people looked over at their small congregation when Chloe raised her voice.

            He had to make sure that he wasn't mistaken.  This was someone's life after all.  He didn't have the right to start any unjustified rumors.  "Chloe, give me a ride home," he looked at Clark, "Meet us at the Talon in a half hour."  Pete turned and began to walk toward Chloe's car.  She turned to Lex and Clark.  With a look of confusion and a shrug she hurried to catch up to Pete.  

            Clark turned to Lex, who was running his hand over his smooth head.  "I'm sure he meant that you could be there too," Clark offered.  

            Normally Lex didn't care when something like this happened.  They were in high school and he was quite a bit older than Clark after all.  But this had to do with Rhone, about something that she wouldn't tell him.  He would never judge her on her past, things she had done.  

He liked who she was – even though he wasn't exactly sure what that was.  For the hundredth time he replayed the robbery in his mind.  Lex nodded absently.  He hated having to depend on someone like this for information.  After the thorough investigation he had done into Rhone Chade, some high school kid was going to show up with something that he couldn't find?

Clark's voice interrupted his thoughts, "I need to call my parents."  Surely they would have heard that there was an incident down town and they probably assumed that he was somehow involved.  He had a knack for doing that.

Lex nodded again and they began to walk toward the Talon.


	27. Chapter 27

            "You're supposed to tell us when you're going to be in our jurisdiction," the Police Chief said from behind his desk.  

Rhone looked at him with disdain, "Why?  So you and the rest of your little department could take a few weeks of paid vacation and let me handle everything?"

"It was just a coincidence that you happened to be at the Savings and Loan today…" he began.

Rhone stood and leaned over the desk at him.  She didn't like the way that she was being treated around here.  There were certain protocols that police forces were to adhere to when someone like her made himself or herself known and they had not followed them.  Every police force knew of the existence of people like her, sometimes they even worked together.  "You're right; I didn't come here to fight your battles for you.  It was a coincidence that I was there.  That is why I didn't bother to notify you of my presence.  Besides, it's not like I have to," she said still looking at him.

"We enforce the law around here, Rhone…" the chief began.

Is that what they call this, she thought dryly?  She moved quickly, grabbed his collar with her left hand, and effortlessly pulled him up to make him level with her eyes.  A look of terror was etched into his face – someone like her could get rid of him – without a trace and with minimal effort.  With her right hand she pulled out the ID that she had flashed at the officers outside of the bank.  "See this?" she asked in a low growl, "This means that the law doesn't apply to me.  It means I do whatever I want, whenever I want, to whomever I want.  And from this point forward, you and the rest of the people on this poor excuse for a police force will address me respectfully and correctly – as Sir."  She released him roughly and walked out the door.

Lex had been sitting at this table for more than forty-five minutes.  He had been listening to Clark, on his cell phone in the corner, quietly and hurriedly run through the tale of the robbery to his parents.  Well, at least he knew that he wasn't delusional.  They both had seen and heard the same things.  

The door to the Talon opened and Pete and Chloe walked in.  Lex looked up expectantly and heard Clark behind him, "…They're here.  I have to go. …I love you too.  Thanks, Mom."

Lex looked at the table in front of him for a moment; he wondered if his father knew what had happened to him today – if he even cared.  A small part of Lex wanted him to.  But a large part told him not to care, that Lionel didn't.  And it would bring questions as to why he was there with Rhone in the first place.  

Lex had regained his cool composure when Chloe and Pete sat in front of him.  Clark came up from behind and sat beside him.  

"Sorry, I had to call my Dad at Pete's," Chloe started, "I didn't think that he would ever let me off the phone."

"Or my parents let me leave the house again – ever," Pete said dryly.  He put his backpack on the table and opened it.  Everyone at the table was watching him.  He pulled out a thin magazine and started leafing through it. 

Lex looked at what Pete was holding.  It said "Hand To Hand Monthly."  He had never heard of it.  From the looks of it, not many people had.

"About four years ago, one of my pack rat brothers was in some martial arts phase," Pete began.

Lex wondered why someone would have a shitty magazine from four years ago, but realized his invitation to this little meeting was only by the good graces of Clark and kept his comment to himself.  

"There's this – underground fighting ring in Metropolis.  Beat the hell out of each other for a lot of money, hardly any rules.  Being killed in the ring is considered a typical job hazard.  High stakes gambling by the people that can get in to watch," Pete said still going through the magazine.

"Are you saying that Rhone is somehow involved in this?" Clark asked doubtfully.  

"No," Pete paused as he stopped flipping magazine pages, "at least, not anymore."  Pete set the magazine down on the table and pointed to a very small article on a near back page.  

Instinctively, everyone leaned forward slightly, looking at the magazine.  Chloe began reading the article quietly aloud, "Underground Rumors.  Inside sources tell Hand to Hand Monthly that Metropolis' underground fighting ring supposedly suffered a different kind of blow in this month's tournament.  Last month's crowd favorite and undefeated one time champion was absent from the once a month tourney.  Barely suffering a scratch, the champ won the only competition she ever entered.  Rhone Chade, we hardly knew ye."

The three teens looked at one another.  They looked to Lex, who was still staring at the magazine on the table.  None of them could pinpoint the emotion that he was displaying.  If Clark had to guess, it would have been disbelief.  

"Well, there is no guarantee that this is even the same person," Chloe said.  Chloe needed some better information than that if she was going to write a halfway decent story.  Suddenly, a thought came to her – an expose about this underground fight thingy.

Clark agreed, "Yeah, it is more than possible for two people to have the same name."  These words were spoken in an attempt to – comfort? – Lex.  At least get rid of that unreadable look that had found its way to the billionaire's face.  He wondered why Rhone failed to mention this when she was at his house and they were talking about their – abilities.  But she said she had only had the relic for two years, this article was from four years ago.  

Lex moved and picked up the magazine.  He read the small article for himself.  He didn't really know what he was feeling.  This wasn't that big of a deal – it was different, but not some horrible crime against humanity.  He…  He…  He just wished that she had told him.  

Lex wondered why she felt the need to hide something like this.  Maybe it was because she had a professional career now.  Yeah.  Maybe she thought he would have considered her less qualified to do her job.  This wasn't exactly something that you pad a resume with.  

"Is this the only article?" Lex asked Pete.  He rarely spoke to Pete directly because of the past – unpleasantness.  

"I remember some kind of follow up article somewhere.  It said she had disappeared off the face of the earth, no one could find her – like she never even existed.  But…" Pete trailed off.  

"But what?" Chloe asked, always inquisitive.

On this rare occasion, Pete looked directly at Lex, "No one ever uses their real name when they enter those things."  Pete didn't know why, but he was willing to forget the cream corn factory and the fact that he had been holding a Clark-stealer grudge against Lex for some time.  Maybe if Lex had someone new to invest his free time in, Pete would get Clark back.  

Lex got up from the table, still holding the magazine.  He glanced at each of them but held a gaze on Pete.  

Pete gestured with his head to the magazine in a silent "keep it."

Lex nodded.  He turned without a word.  

"Bye, Lex," Clark said after him.

Lex slightly raised the hand with the magazine in a gesture of goodbye as he walked away, never coming close to turning around.

Lex looked across the massive table in his dining room as he absently raised his fork to his mouth.  He checked his watch again – 5:32.  She wasn't coming.  He had told Mark to put a hold on dinner because he had a few things to do before he ate.  Somehow he doubted that staring out the window and waiting for a car to pull up your driveway actually counted as having something to do.  

He had gone to the Smallville Hotel after he left the Talon, but she wasn't there.  The man at the desk said that he hadn't seen her either.  He actually went up to her room and knocked anyway.  

He looked to the chair she had sat in the two previous nights.  It was empty.  

…It was so quiet.  How had he grown so accustomed to that dinnertime conversation in just two days?  Maybe it was because it was just talk.  It was talk about anything, no ulterior motives about business or anything like that.  Maybe it was the way she asked questions about him – and genuinely listened to the answers.  Maybe because, for the first time, he asked her those same kinds of questions and really cared what she said in reply.  Maybe it was because he…

He shook his head and began to eat again, occasionally allowing himself to gaze at her empty chair.  God, it's quiet, he thought to himself.  


	28. Chapter 28

"Everything has been secured," Rhone said into her cell phone.  She was sitting on the floor, leaning against her unused bed.  

            "Everything?" Griffin's voice asked.

            "It wasn't exactly difficult," Rhone said flatly.

            "Witnesses?" he clarified his original question.

            "Most of them contribute a lot of what they saw to the trauma of the situation.  I have also obtained the security tapes and made sure there was some strategically placed – static.  Police reports have been properly – edited as well," she was trying to steer the subject.

            "What about the billionaire?" Griffin stopped beating around the bush.

            "What about him?"  Rhone kept her voice stoic.

            "What did he say?"

            "I wouldn't know," she said plainly.  She thought back to a few hours ago when she had sat quietly on the floor upon hearing Lex approach the door to her hotel room.  She just listened as he rapped on the door for almost fifteen minutes.  A part of her wanted to talk to him – she felt that way a lot since their first evening together.  But the other part of her knew that it would just be question after question about subjects she liked to avoid.  He was like that; he had to know everything.  However, most people that had seen her do what she had done today would want to play twenty questions.  

            "You mean you pulled a stunt like that and you didn't even talk to him?  I thought you two had dinner every night?" Griffin allowed his voice to get an octave higher.  He looked around to make sure he was alone in the observation room, even though he knew everyone else was in the mess hall.  

            "For one thing, two nights is not every night," Rhone corrected him.

            "Two nights in a row," he began, "and one of those nights involved you being at his castle until five a.m."

            "I'm never telling you anything again."

            "It's not like I told anyone," He was grinning.  

            "There's nothing to tell," she insisted.

            "Well, you are going to have to see him," he said, "Most likely sooner than later -- for example, tomorrow."  Both Rhone and Lex were going to be at Plant Number Three tomorrow, and he knew it as well as she did.  She had to go back eventually.  Silence was the only reply to his last statement.  He had known her too well for too long, he thought.  "Rhone?" he said into the phone he was holding.

            "Yeah," she said, almost as if she were tired.

            "Tell him," Griffin said softly.

            "I've never just told anyone," she said as though in deep thought.  No one can accept what you are, she told herself.  No one can ever be that forgiving.  And it's not like there wouldn't be more secrets anyway.  

            "And that has been your choice.  But – I think this is different."

            Rhone furrowed her eyebrows.  What does that mean, different?  "I don't under…" she was interrupted.

            "Do you trust him?"

            She stopped in mid-sentence and let the air go dead again.  She had been trained to never trust anyone that wasn't on a very short list of people – sometimes she didn't think that she was even on it.  What kind of question was that anyway?  Why would she have any reason to implicitly trust someone that she had just met?  Maybe it was because she…

            "Tell him," thankfully, Griffin interrupted her thoughts.    

            Lex gazed at his desk.  He was taking turns looking at the magazine that Pete Ross had given him, this morning's edition of the Smallville Ledger, and a folder from the hospital the bank robbers had been taken to.  

Even if he weren't involved, the robbery would have made the front page in this town.  But, since he was involved, it was the front page.  He read through the article in The Ledger yet again.  There was not a single word about Rhone Chade.  Not a picture, nothing about her involvement, or her heroics.  As a matter of fact, the story was erroneous.  It made it sound as though the robbers had some sort of misunderstanding and attacked each other.  He thought it odd that even though he really didn't do anything, this article unnecessarily painted him in good light.  He didn't recognize the name of the author, Chad E. Rohen.  Maybe he would send the guy a cheese basket -- or a car if he kept up the good work.

Then he looked to the file from the hospital.  The man who was to watch the hostages had a broken nose and two cracked ribs.  The one that came out to check on the first had a fractured skull.  How hard do you have to kick someone to fracture his or her skull?  The other two each suffered from a single bullet wound to the posterior.  Lex had to allow himself a smirk at that.  

He looked back to the article in Hand-to-Hand Monthly, to the Ledger, to the hospital report…  Something wasn't right.  He blinked.  Again, he looked to the magazine and to the Ledger.  He repeated this two more times.  …Rhone Chade, Chad E Rohen, he thought to himself.  Chad E. Rohen was an anagram of Rhone Chade.  Lex had put things into motion that would allow him to obtain the police reports from the incident, but now he realized they would most likely mirror the story in The Ledger.  How did she…?  

Frustrated, he picked up Hand-to-Hand Monthly and held it close to his face.  Maybe it was just a coincidence.  He replayed everything that had happened since Rhone had arrived in his mind.  No, this wasn't a coincidence.  There had to be more than this four-sentence article in this rag of a magazine.  He was glaring at the magazine inches from his face, silently demanding information that wasn't there.  

He remembered the feeling of – mild panic he had when he pulled into his parking place and beside him was Gabe Sullivan's familiar car.  …Was she -- gone?  

Rhone silently opened the door.  She knew he was there, behind his desk.  As she stood wordlessly in the door, she tilted her head to the side, and gazed at him.  It was almost 4:30 in the afternoon, so the sun wasn't filtering though the stain glass windows, playing off his milky skin the way she liked.  

But – she liked this too, still exquisite.  There was this intense look on his face.  What was he looking at so intensely?  

…Oh.  She furrowed her eyebrows slightly.  That was four years ago, how did he get his hands on that?  What was she feeling?  Was she proud of him for this?  Or did she think that it would make this whole thing easier, softening the blow a little bit by himself?  Did he already know?

She thought back to last night and most of today.  She was working on her other comic book idea for almost all of those hours.  In the back of her mind, she was thinking about what Griffin had said -- if she really should tell Lex.  She debated how you tell someone something like that, then tried to convince herself she didn't need to tell him, then tried to convince herself that she had the nerve to if she wanted to.

He was still looking at the magazine as though he could start it on fire if he stared at it hard enough.  She kind of wanted him to, if he were a freak like her, she could truly tell him everything.  She let out a long and silent breath; that would be so – perfect.  She smiled wryly at her thoughts.

She allowed herself a few more moments of admiring him.  Unfortunately, he didn't show any signs of pyro-kinesis.  She silently walked toward him and stood on the other side of his desk.  She felt a strong tug toward the way she had come.  She could leave and he would never know…

She raised her right hand slowly; it was wrong -- interrupting beauty.  At least he was gorgeous no matter what he was doing – all the time.

As she closed her hand around the top of the magazine she said, "Mr. Luthor?"

He looked up, slightly startled that he was no longer alone.  They looked in each other's eyes as he let go of the magazine.  She turned the page he was looking at toward her and read the article.  She hadn't read it in quite sometime, and even then it was only once when it came out.  It wasn't like this one article in some obscure magazine was a threat to her.  In any case, most copies of this and its follow up that mentioned her had been destroyed sometime ago.  

Lex stood, "I -- didn't see you at the plant today."

She was still looking at Hand-to-Hand Monthly, "That's because I wasn't there."

He walked around the desk, "…So my secretary said."  He walked beside her and leaned against his desk.  

"I decided to take the day off," she said vaguely.

"I hope you are feeling better -- Chad," Lex said with a sideways glance at her.

She looked up him with a faint smile, "Usually only my men notice and appreciate my attempts at taunting the public."

"Your men?" Lex asked with an inquisitive look.

"I wasn't ill," she redirected the conversation.  He raised his eyebrows at her.  "I – was avoiding you," she hesitated slightly.  He inhaled like he was going to say something.  "After the – incident at the bank yesterday," she started.

Now this was a line of conversation he wanted to stick with.  He looked at her with his hands in his pockets, nodding for her to continue.

"I just didn't want to face," she searched for a fitting description for a moment, "The Smallville Inquisition."  She used the magazine she was holding to gesture towards the file and newspaper on his desk.

"Clark has told me that I – obsess, let my curiosity get the better of me," Lex admitted.  

"He has told me the same," she said lightly.  "You do ask questions – a lot of questions.  So, that makes us similar in yet another way," she said.  

"When did you take up freelance writing?" Lex gestured toward the newspaper on his desk.  

"And that begins the barrage of questions," she said with a sigh.

"If you would just tell me what is going on, what was that at the bank, why you…?" Lex leaned closer to her.

Was she backing out of telling him?  Was she that afraid that he would never want to speak to her again?  What did she care?  "Do you – remember the first night that we met?" she asked him as she started to walk towards the adjacent room that they had been in on that night.  

"Of course," he said.  How could I ever forget it, he thought to himself as he followed her into the room.  

"Basically, Mr. Luthor, I said that I didn't think that we would ever get to know each other," she said as she took the same seat she had the night they met.  "And I believed that," she added.

"But we have, and yet you insist on calling me Mr. Luthor," he did not take his position across from her.  Rather, he sat beside her, much like he had done in the library.  He wanted to see if he could identify her scent as well as be close to her.  

"It's difficult to tell someone that you have come to regard as a – friend that you have been lying to them since the day you met," she didn't look in his eyes.  It was odd that she thought that, they really hadn't known each other for long.  

Why did everyone always keep things from him, lie to him?  "Listen, Rhone, I don't really care about you fighting in Metropolis," he looked at the magazine she was still holding in her lap.  Having her as a friend meant too much to him to get pissed off over something that she did for a week four years ago, four years before they even met…

She inhaled deeply; it's now or never.  If he winds up thinking that you are horrible and evil, you can always blame it on Griffin.  If you can tell him, you can trust him, she thought to herself.  "This," she began, as she looked at Hand-to-Hand Monthly, "is only the beginning."

He raised an eyebrow at her.  "Beginning of what?" he leaned forward.

"I did tell you that this whole invoice thing isn't my normal job," she reiterated.  

            He nodded, "I never remember you actually telling me what it is you do."

            "I work for the military," she said before she had time to change her mind about this whole thing.

            "I do know that you are in the reserves, if that is what you mean…"

            "More of that freelance writing you were talking about," she said.

            Lex looked at her in obvious need of some clarification.  His sources were pretty reliable; those were government files.  Such a large inaccuracy…

            She held up a hand as if to pause his thoughts.  She went into one of the pockets of her cargo pants and pulled out a black wallet.  For the first time, he noticed how firm her arms were.  He recognized the wallet as the one she had shown the police outside of the bank yesterday.  She opened it and stared at it for a moment.  Then she handed it to him.

            He slowly took it from her and brought it closer to read the picture ID that was inside.  To the right of a rather stoic looking picture of the woman beside him were the words "United States Military:  Elite Independent Forces.   Rhone Chade:  EX-O."  Then there were many more numbers and letters, but Lex had no idea what they meant.  

            Rhone sat silently, trying to gage his reaction.  He was just looking at it.  Say something, she thought to herself.


	29. Chapter 29

            Lex read the card once more and then noticed something else in one of the wallet compartments.  Without thinking that this was in fact someone else's wallet, he pulled it out.  It was a high level Luthor Corp. security clearance card.  How did she get this?

            He held up the card, "Do you work for my father?"  The thought stung him, what if she was just some sick way for his father to spy on him?

            "I just told you that I work for the military," she said flatly.

            "Then where did you get this?" he pressed the issue.

            "One of my men took the liberty, he enjoys it," she shook her head like she didn't understand the pastimes of whoever she was talking about.  "How do you think I just drove up here, unannounced last week?" she explained, "As if I would really need it, your security sucks.  I don't think I have ever even seen the face of the man who is supposed to be guarding your front gate."  

            He looked at her as if he didn't believe her.  She leaned her head back on the couch and sighed, "How can I prove it to you?"  As an afterthought she added, "I don't believe your father makes you so – paranoid.  I also don't believe that I just told you something that I have never even considered telling anyone before and all you can do is…" Her voice trailed off as she leaned back and looked at the ceiling.  I knew this was a bad idea, she thought to herself.  

            He looked at the security card.  It didn't have a name on it; it was blank.  It didn't really belong to anyone.  He turned it over, the data strip on the back didn't look right either – kind of reflective.  It was a fake – a damn good one.  "I apologize," he said as he put the card back into the wallet.  She gave him a sideways glance.  "But you have to admit, it was a logical conclusion," he said in his own defense.

"I wouldn't have given you the whole damn wallet if there was something incriminating that I didn't want you to see in there," she pointed out.  It was in plain view after all.  There was a brief silence between them.

"Rhone?" he said quietly.  She turned to face his profile.  "Thanks," he said as he looked forward.

"For what?" she asked.  Is he thanking me because I don't work for his father, she wondered?  

He looked at her and handed her the wallet he had been holding.  "It seems that everyone does everything humanly possible to avoid me, lie to me, or keep things from me.  It's just comforting to know that at least one person has enough faith in me to trust me," he said sincerely.

She carefully took the wallet from his hand; she didn't want to upset him now by touching him.  "I don't think that is true," she said with a slight shake of her head.  How could she just finish telling him such a large secret and suddenly feel as though she should tell him more?  You can never tell anyone about that, she told herself.

"It is true, even Clark keeps things from me.  I don't know what it is, but there is some kind of reservation that I can just feel," he watched her return her wallet to her pocket.

"Clark keeps things from you?  Clark?  Are we talking about the same person here:  farm boy, flannel shirt, late 60's Beatle hair, smile that could guide sailing ships safely to shore on a foggy night?" she asked with an amused grin.  If the Kents ever found out about this, she hoped that they would appreciate her efforts.  Who was she kidding?  Of course they would.  They were so damn nice.

Lex didn't like that last comment about Clark's smile, but he didn't let on.  It was innocent enough, but he just didn't like it.  He did see what girls like Chloe saw in Clark, but Rhone was a different kind of girl.  Right?

"And I thought I was paranoid.  You could be one of us with that complex," she smiled and shook her head.  

One of us, he thought about her choice of words.  Suddenly he realized something, "What are the Elite Independent Forces?  I've never heard of it, is it part of the army?"

"And I thought you lost interest in me," Rhone joked.  Actually, she was hoping that she was off the hook.

"Don't ever think that," he said.  Did he just say that?  

"The closest thing that you would probably have heard of is -- a soldier of fortune or a mercenary, but not exactly," she said as she brought her feet up on the couch and turned her whole body towards him.  She didn't know how he would take something like this.  Putting a description on her job was a little different than just giving someone a nice title.  

Lex turned his body to face her and looked at her intently.  This wasn't exactly something that he had been expecting.  He thought that maybe she punched numbers or something.  "What exactly is 'but not exactly?" He asked.

"To make a long story short…" she started.

"Don't," he interrupted.

She nodded slowly; she understood that he wanted the details.  He always did.  

She was silent for a moment; Lex could tell that she was thinking about something.  "What?" he asked.

"I was just deciding if it would be easier to tell it from the beginning or if I should explain it and then fill in the gaps," she said.

He didn't say anything, but nodded for her to continue.  

She looked at the magazine in her hand and tossed it on the small table next to the couch.  "Five years ago, at the beginning of my senior year in high school, Marie was killed," Rhone said.

Lex nodded.  She had mentioned Marie before, just not when her best friend had been killed.

"Essentially, I didn't know how to deal with it.  We were always together.  We had other friends, but they weren't close.  So when it happened, I was alone," she explained.

"What about your family?" he asked, he could relate.  

She blinked as though he had reminded her of something long forgotten, "My whole life, I always felt a – detachment from them.  I don't have anything against them or dislike them; I just never needed them emotionally.  So, to answer your question, they couldn't and didn't help."  She paused.  "I'm not saying I had a bad family life by any means.  My childhood was like a Country Time Lemonade commercial.  I was pretty happy."

"Detachment from the people who are supposed to love you doesn't sound very happy," Lex observed.

"Said the desert to the grain of sand," she said, "I'm sure that you could tell me some horror stories about what having a bad childhood is really about."

He didn't know if she was referring to his mother's death, his father's usual lack of interest, his father's occasional over interest, or the effects of the meteor shower.  He absently ran his head over his head.  He knew she wasn't trying to hurt his feelings, just making a truthful observation.  The less than happy details of his life weren't exactly a secret.

"Anyway, that detachment plays a major role in the story that I'm telling you," she continued, "Marie and I had always made it a point to be physically active.  Working in a comic book store can – keep things like that in the front of your mind."  She gave him a faint smile and he returned it.  

"After she was gone, there were just too many hours in the day.  I wasn't really sleeping well, public school was less than challenging, and I didn't want to pick up more hours at work because Marie and I had worked there together.  So I started kicking up that exercise regimen:  skateboarding, running, biking, and swimming.  One day, I enrolled in a karate class because despite everything else, I still wasn't preoccupied enough.  I really liked it and enrolled in other martial arts classes that this place had to offer, different techniques.  I finally found something to fill the void.  I started spending as much time as I could there, going to all the sessions.  If I may say, I was pretty damn good by spring," Rhone said.

Lex thought back to the bank robbery, "I believe that."

She smiled, "I was enrolled to go to a state college that fall and I had been working for some time, so I could technically afford to go.  But barely, I was prepared to eat out of some dumpsters."  Lex smiled faintly at the reference she made to their previous conversation in the library.  She paused briefly, "I was practicing one day, and I heard these two guys talking about this – contest in Metropolis.  Real money, real fast."  She pointed to the magazine on the table.  

"So you just…" Lex started to say.  

"Packed a few things, told work that I wouldn't be there for a while, and took off," she finished.

"And your family?" he asked.

"I'm sure they would have disapproved," she answered.

He raised his eyebrows, "You never told them you were leaving?"

"I left a note," she held up her fingers in quotation marks when she told him what the note said, "Be back someday."  

"How long were you gone?" he was mildly shocked that she would do something like that.  Would she just leave some note when she was going to leave Smallville?  Never even say goodbye?  His chest was tight again; she was leaving soon.  He found his way back to Metropolis once and a while, he would just have to make his way there more often.

"I'll let you know," she said.

"You haven't seen your family in four years?" he kind of wished that he could get away with something like that.

"I haven't even spoken to them.  They have no idea where I am, what I'm doing.  The last contact we had was the note that I left," she clarified.  

"Why?" he asked.  She held up one finger, indicating that her story would get there eventually.  "I keep interrupting, I apologize," Lex relaxed into the couch, still turned toward her.  

"No, I like it.  That way I know you haven't perfected sleeping with your eyes open," she gave him a half smile.  

She thought it was amusing that he had his knee on the couch so he could fully face her.  She had never seen him sit like that before.  In the library, his posture indicated that he wanted to.  But he never did.  Being refined must be a bitch.  

"So how did you find out where they were doing this tournament?" he asked, interested.  That article pretty much implied that it was secretive and he, a former man about Metropolis, had never even heard of it.  

She furrowed her eyebrows and sat silently for a moment.  She had never thought about it before.  She didn't know where it was; yet of all the places in Metropolis she could have gone, she went to the right warehouse on the first try.  And that was before she had the relic.  She would have to ask Sensei about that later.  "Women's intuition," she quickly continued, "The article pretty much sums up the tournament.  I won; it was – a lot of money."  She remembered whom she was talking to, "A lot of money for some girl that had only worked part time in a comic book store."

Lex caught her correction and smiled at his lap.  "The article said you didn't go back for the next tournament," he looked up.

"The night of the final match, some of the guys that I had gotten to know invited me to go out to celebrate.  Bouncers and even some of the guys that I had beaten in the tournament," she did an impression of them, "Come on, RC!  No one's ever won a wad of cash like that, the least you can do is buy a few rounds!"

"RC?" Lex had a mocking smile and a raised eyebrow.

She rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly, "In the tournament, everyone called me RC."

Buy a few rounds?  Lex narrowed his eyebrows, "Weren't you only eighteen?"  

"And I don't drink," she added.  "Even if I did, this bar was not the kind of place that checked ID's – or washed its glasses, or mopped up the blood and entrails, or cleaned its bathrooms," she paused for a moment and narrowed her gaze at him, "That from a man who went clubbing until six a.m. before he could drive – recklessly."  She smiled facetiously.  

He chuckled and held up his hands.  She had a point.  

"Do you want me to go?" she said suddenly.

Lex checked his watch.  How did she do that?  That was the second time she had known what time it was without even looking at a clock.  He had greatly missed her the night before, and wanted her to eat dinner with him.  "You know that you can stay," he stood quickly, looked down at her, and offered her a hand.  

            She looked at his hand.  Talk about confusing, one minute he doesn't like to be touched and the next minute he wants to help her up?  Not to mention, she had a fair amount of experience standing up on her own.  He was just trying to be – polite.  

            "Interesting watch," she commented as she looked at his hand.

            Lex brought his hand up to look at the Napoleon Frank watch he was wearing.  "My mother gave it to me before she died," his voice had an absent quality and he continued to look at the watch.

            Rhone stood and observed, "You loved her."

            Lex noticed that she had stood without his aid and was slightly disappointed.  He decided that they could talk about his mother later, if she wanted.  She was telling him something pretty personal, and he didn't want to interrupt it.  Not to mention, he was quite interested in her story.  

He trusted her enough to talk to her about his mother.  Occasionally his father mentioned her, but naturally it was less than touching or sentimental.  He had had a few brief conversations with Clark, but usually the conversations they had always turned to something else.  He gestured toward her wrist, "Yours is different, unique."

            They began to walk toward the dinning room.  She looked at her own wrist briefly, "It was a gift."  She resisted getting a far away look in her eyes.  She dropped her arm to her side.  

            "Old boyfriend?" he asked.  Maybe he should buy her something…  If he did, would she wear it all the time like she wore her watch – or her artists' tube, which only seemed to be absent when she was here?  She paused for a moment.  "I wasn't implying -- current boyfriend?" he said it coolly, but for some reason his thought caused a mild panic to spread from the base of his chest to his finger tips.  

            She knew he wasn't trying to make her feel bad in any way; there is no way that he could have known.  "Can you – be trusted with some classified information?" she asked without looking at him.

            Did he want to know?  Some story about already having found true love…  "I thought I already was," he said as he walked.

            She nodded softly in concession.  "I've never had a boyfriend," she said with a small smile.

            "Never?" he asked.  He looked at her and didn't really believe her.  That had to change, and he was just the kind of man to take control of the situation and change it.  He remembered the bank and the way her feral hair framed her face and fell over her shoulders.  He stole a glance at her and admired her.  She was so exotic and beautiful; he found it impossible that she had never been involved with someone.  He resisted the urge to wrap an arm around her waist and promise her an enchanted evening in Metropolis.  

            "Not even a date, at least a real one," she gave him a sideways glance.

            "A real one," he repeated.  She held up her index finger to once again signal that the answer would come in time.  He nodded with a small smile and opened the door to the dining room.  Dinner was again, already on the table.  Rhone wondered why Mark was making himself so scarce lately.  

            Lex wanted to hear more of the story she had been telling him.  "So, you were in this – establishment…" he started for her.  He pulled out her chair for her.

            She looked at the chair and then to Lex.  She smiled and resisted the urge to cover his pale hand with hers.  "Thanks," she said as she sat down and allowed him to push in the chair.

            Lex paused for a moment as he stood behind her, thinking of removing that invisible clip from her hair.  He wanted to run his fingers through it.  It wasn't exactly the kind of thing Luthors admitted to, but it had been a while since he had had the pleasure of hair.  It was like most things; you want what you can't or don't have.  …He wanted to touch her.

            She began to speak, "So we were in this bar and – I hated every minute of it."  Lex sat down in his usual chair.  She told him a detailed story as they slowly ate.  


	30. Chapter 30

            Rhone stood up and tossed a few bills on the bar.  No one had heard her get up; it was too loud.  She was still wearing the clothes she had worn in the tournament and was ready for a shower.  She didn't know what she would do tomorrow, but she still had a hotel room for another night.  Maybe she would figure out what to do with all that money she had just won.  She patted her zipped front pockets, reassuring herself that the money was still there.  

            "RC!  Where are you going?  You didn't even have a drink," a male voice slurred behind her.  

            She turned from the door.  "I'm going to bed.  You should consider doing the same, Ken," she said dryly.  

Rhone thought Ken, a bouncer for the tournament, was a nice guy.  Before he saw what she could do, he took on an almost protective older brother role.  She smiled faintly at the memory of the look he had on his face when she KO'ed her first opponent.

"It's still early, have a drink.  It's on – well, it's on you," he held up his almost empty glass of beer.  A few of the other guys she had come with were starting to pay attention to their conversation, telling her to stay.

"Maybe next time," she turned.  "I left your next round on the bar," she said over her shoulder.

"Thanks RC!" the men had turned and began looking interested in the next round that was being poured.

Rhone walked out the door and into the night.  It had to have been almost one, but she really didn't know.  Looking at her car, she noticed someone in a dark trench coat getting out of the car next to hers.  Why were they wearing a trench coat?  It was June and quite warm.  Otherwise, she was alone in the parking lot.  She got an intense feeling in her stomach, but it wasn't fear.  

She started walking toward her car and the figure in the trench coat started walking toward the bar, which was coincidently right at her.  She didn't deter from her course, just walked straight for her car.  

She began to make out the features of the figure walking toward her.  It was a man in his mid 50's.  He had dark gray hair that was only about an inch long, combed back.  

She stared straight ahead and strode forward purposefully.  He did the same.  If one of them didn't move, they would clip each other in the shoulder.

Neither of them moved and they bumped shoulders.  She turned as they made contact and looked into his eyes.  They were – squinted despite the darkness.  If she had to make a guess in a poorly lit parking lot, she would guess they were brown.  

She turned to face her car again and heard, "Undefeated Champion, what did you get for that?  Twenty-five, thirty thousand?"

She couldn't tell, but the voice had a regal air and was faintly – English?  She stopped abruptly and turned around.  The man was already stopped and facing her, just grinning.  They were about six feet from one another.  

She looked harder at him; she didn't recognize him.  She didn't think that he was at the tournament.  She knew he didn't fight in it, but there were quite a few people in the makeshift bleachers.  And if he were there at all, he would have known how much she won.  "I don't think you need any more of what they're serving in there," she pointed at the grimy bar she had walked out of.  

"I'm not here for the spirits.  -- I'm here for you," he put his hands in his coat pockets, maintaining his smile.

She debated whether or not she should try to take this guy.  She didn't understand it, but something in her gut said no.  She redistributed her weight, ready to run.  But something was holding her there.  "I think the hookers patrol the next block over," she gestured with her hand.  

"Tell me, does one automatically acquire such wit when they work in a comic book store?" he asked.

Her back straightened, "What?"

"Or perhaps you had to hone the skill by practicing with Marie?" he continued, "If that is the case, as of September, you became in dire need of a new counterpart."  She was rigid.  Her eyes were set on him and her face was one of uncertainty.  He took a few steps toward her.  "Aren't you going to run?" he asked lightly.

Her face turned to one of resentment, "Your assumption that I fear you is flawed -- and arrogant."

"Fearless, independent, not to mention her skills," he said as though talking to someone else.  "But…" his voice trailed off.

"But what?" she asked slowly.  The man started breathing heavily and brought his hands out of his pockets.  One hand went to his heart and the other contorted into a position that conveyed pain.  His face began to mirror the emotion of his hand.  "Hey," she said as she reached out for him and grabbed his shoulders.  He began to slowly collapse and she helped lower him to the ground.  "Hey!  Are you alright?" she said with wide eyes.

Heavy breathing and a faint groan was her only reply.  She put a hand up to his forehead and lightly caressed it.  She leaned over him and picked him up.  She was happy that she had been exercising so vigorously these past ten months.  She turned and started to run for her car.  She knew that if she went to the bar everyone would be too intoxicated to help and getting the music turned down so she could call for help would be no easy task.  It would take too much time.

With a little effort, she opened the passenger side door of her Honda Civic and put the limp body she was carrying inside.  She shut the door and rushed to the driver side.  She jumped into her seat and shut the door.  She was – calm.  She put the key into the ignition and heard, "Compassionate, heroic."

She slowly looked over at her passenger.  He was sitting up and opening her glove compartment.  "Get out of my fucking car," she said calmly.  

He pulled out some maps and other things she had in her glove box.  "Always prepared, yet travels light," he said as he looked at the few things in her back seat.  

"Who in the hell are you talking to?" she asked.  She started to slowly reach for something to the right of her seat.

"Self preservation…  I'm not going to hurt you," he added, looking at her briefly.

She was holding an inking pen in her hand so he could see it.  A wry grin crossed her face, "If you tried, I would either kill you with this inking pen or kill us both by crashing this car so you could never hurt anyone else."  

For the first time the man froze, staring at her.  "…Altruistic," he said, in a barely audible voice.  There was a long silence between them.

Finally, she said, "You aren't getting out of my car, are you?"

"Give me one day," he said.

"One day to what?" she asked.

"To change your life," he said softly.

"And how are you going to change my life?" she asked with a small smile.

"I can make it less – average," he promised.

"Average is hardly a word that is used to describe me," she chuckled.  

"You can still draw comic books, Rhone," he stated.  

"You act like I'm attached to anything else," she relaxed into her seat.  

A wide grin crossed his slightly wrinkled face, "Bishop."  He extended a hand to her.  She looked at the hand for a moment, but eventually shook it.  When she did, a feeling washed over her.  It was one of those feelings that told you things were never going to be the same again.  It was a moment that changed your life.

"Bishop?  Let me guess, family name," she said sarcastically.  She thought back a few moments, how does he know my – name?  How does he know any of those other things about me?

"Not exactly," his grin became faint.

"Do you have a last name?" she asked.

"No," he said flatly.

"So you're like Sting or Prince?  Do you sing?" she said coyly.

"No," he couldn't hold back a slight chuckle.  "Where did you come up with a name like Rhone Chade anyway?" he asked.

She looked at him sideways, "Best damn Dungeons and Dragons character I ever played."

He opened the passenger side door and said, "I'll contact you tomorrow."  Without waiting for a response he got out and shut the door.  She looked in her rear view mirror and watched him get into his car.  Jaguar – nice.


	31. Chapter 31

            Rhone stepped into the parking garage of the hotel she had been staying at.  She had checked out and didn't exactly know what she was going to do now.  She thought about the strange man she had met last night in the bar parking lot -- Bishop.  She didn't know what his deal was – he was probably just a crackpot.  

She had considered going home.  You can always just come back next month, she thought to herself.  

            She shifted the duffle bag of clothing she was carrying to her other shoulder as she walked.  She approached her car – there was something leaning on the passenger side.  It was a man, a familiar one.  She shifted her duffle bag again from discomfort, "I never thought I would see you again."

            "We don't let people like you slip away," he said in his light accent.  

            "People like me?  You mean dense ones that fall for bad acting?" she said referring to when the man had feigned a heart attack.  

            "No," he said with a faint smile, "And I thought it was quite good."  His accent was more prevalent on that last sentence.  

            "Where are you from?" she asked leaning on the roof of her car.

            "Wherever suits me," he said.

            "So, like Detroit?" she said with a raised eyebrow.

            He laughed lightly, "Something like that.  Did you – consider my offer?"

            "The offer to save me from my mundane little life – the offer that you never elaborated on?  Oh, yeah, sign me up right now," she opened her door and put the duffle bag inside.  Then she got in her car, shut the door, and started the engine.  The man, Bishop, had stepped back from the car and was standing about three feet from it.  

Rhone sat for a moment with the engine running.  She sat in the car and in ten seconds had analyzed her entire life.  Where was she going?  What was she going back to?  

The man in the black trench coat watched the window of the car roll down.  "Well, where are we going?" he heard the young girl's exasperated voice coming from the driver's seat.  

Bishop smiled.  He opened the car door and slid beside her.  

She pulled out of the parking space.  After a moment she asked, "Which way?"

"Take a right out of this lot," he said.  "Where did you get this car?" he asked, "The Micro Machines factory?"  He adjusted his seat.  "Take a left," he instructed.

She followed his instructions as he gave them.  "What is this all about anyway?" she asked.

"Have you ever felt that your life was – wrong?" he asked, seemingly off the subject.

"Like you didn't belong in it, like there was something more?" she asked in reply.  Her voice was absent and stoic.

He turned to look at her with slightly wide eyes.  In his case, they were no longer squinted, "That – is exactly what I mean."  He had expected some smart-ass remark or for her to get defensive, that was usually the reply he got.  

She briefly took her eyes off the road in front of her, "Everyday."

"Left," he said.  "You are special, you know," he added.  She shot him a sideways glance.  "I can see it – feel it.  I have been looking for you," he said more to himself than to her.  

She knew he couldn't mean her specifically, "Looking for me?"

"Someone that has the power to change fate, the outcome of destiny," he clarified.

"You just got a little too philosophical," she quipped.  

"I want you to be a part of my team," he said flatly.  He had never decided so quickly before.

"Despite the fact that you have filled me in on everything else," she said sarcastically, "You have failed to mention what exactly you do."

"There is a select group of people that saves the world quite frequently, fight entire wars alone, live a life above the law in the name of national security – the safety of the masses," he began.  

"Like a vigilantes?" she asked.

"No, these people have the highest level of government sponsorship.  Except for the Feds would never admit to it," he continued.

"You are one of these people," she concluded.

"I'm their EX-O – their leader," he explained.

"EX-O?  You're military," she observed.

"We don't follow their rules or even their hierarchy.  There's an elected EX-O, a chosen backup to the EX-O – incase the EX-O dies suddenly or is temporarily unable to fulfill his duties.  Everyone else is equal.  However, just being one of us gives you more authority than anyone in any of the other branches of the military," he paused.

"So right now, the highest ranking person in The United States Military is sitting in my Honda?" she observed.

"Basically," he answered.

"You do realize that you are offering me no real proof for me to believe you?" she asked.

"I'm taking you to proof," he said, "Get on the express way."

She complied.  "How do you do all those things?" she asked softly.

"What things?"

"Heroic things, saving the world," she clarified.

"Are you interested?" he prodded, he liked the way she put it – "heroic" things.  She didn't answer.  "We – watch things," he began simply, "Look for suspicious behaviors, shipments, flagged words in communications, anything really.  After initial training, each man trains at his own pace; some focus more on the observations, others on combat, others on ballistics, others on piloting, or shooting, survival tactics, anything someone like us could possibly need.  There is so much to know and practice…" his voice was absent as he looked out the window.  

"Where exactly are we going?" she wanted some kind of direction.

"To a military installation, just outside of the city," he said.

"There is no military base in Metropolis," she said with a smile.

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "I had forgotten what it was like talking to the general public."  He chuckled.

She didn't like the implication that she was just one of the masses.  She stifled a disrespectful remark, "So what do you do with all of this observational knowledge and training?"

"Everything.  We eliminate threats to national security…" he began.

"Eliminate like a hit man?" she interrupted.

"Does that bother you?  Taking the life of another human being?" he genuinely wanted to know the answer, it was quite important.  

"No," she didn't elaborate.  He was surprised by her lack of pause.  She noticed that he was looking at her, "The good of the many outweighs the good of the few."  All she could think about was that bastard that shot Marie and how he never saw justice for what he did.  By taking his own life, Rhone felt as though he had cheated.  

He really wanted this one, not only for the team, but also for – other reasons.  He had a – feeling.  He realized his silence, "We do anything the government really wants us to.  Frequently, we act on our own on behalf of public safety and are – compensated later."

"Compensated?" she wanted to know more about that.

"Not only do we enjoy an unlimited budget for what we need to fulfill our duties and to prepare ourselves, but we receive payment," he paused, "It is quite – ample."

"What does the government ask you to do?"

"Many times we are – a temporary gift to a foreign country to ensure good faith or make a new ally or for any number of reasons.  Sabotaging rogue factions against the government of a country, temporarily working security protecting important foreign figures, dissolving hostage situations, we do anything that I deem acceptable," he took a breath.

"You get to pick your missions?" she thought that sounded odd.

"When you do the government so many favors, you get to pick what they are.  Another reason why we are compensated so – handsomely," he answered.

"Do you ever do work – domestically?" she wondered since he had only mentioned some of the things they do in other countries.

"I told you, we do everything.  We are – the Duct Tape of the military," he laughed lightly.  "I must admit; I like the jobs that we aren't asked to do the best.  It is almost more rewarding and they tend to be more dire," he was speaking as much to himself as he was to her.  "Get off here," he pointed.

"We're leaving the city," she told him as if he didn't know.

"I've lived where we are going for over 25 years, I know how to get there," he assured her.

"You have been doing this – mercenary work for over 25 years?" she asked, surprised.

He sat silently for a few seconds, "I have been doing this for 30 years.  I have been EX-O for 25."


	32. Chapter 32

"And?" he said suddenly when he realized that she had finished the story.

She began stacking up their dishes, "And what?"

"What happened?" he clarified.

"You saw the ID.  I enlisted.  There isn't much more to tell," she said with a slight shrug of her shoulders.

"I find it hard to believe that there is four years of you staring at a wall between that story and now," he was looking at her with raised eyebrows.  She looked at him for a long moment.  He watched a smile creep its way over her lips.  It became so large that her teeth were showing.  "What?" he asked.

She leaned towards him slightly, "You're – still not mad?"  She didn't really believe it, "I didn't know if you would still speak to me…"

"I'm just – shocked, to put it mildly.  If you were anyone else, I wouldn't believe you," he never took his eyes away from her.  He paused for a second, "And you never have to worry about me not speaking to you."  Did a Luthor just say that he was shocked?

She kept her eyes locked on his.  Rhone imagined herself leaning over the table and kissing him lightly on his head as a way of saying thank you.  She nodded, "I can deal with shocked."  

Maybe he didn't understand the full extent of what she had said.  Maybe he just heard what he wanted to and didn't understand the implications of it.  She narrowed her eyes slightly, "I've -- killed people.  You do realize that?"

He let out a light laugh, "I do realize what 'eliminate threats to national security' means."

She narrowed her eyes even more, "I still do that."  She spoke those words very slowly.  

He smiled wider and laughed a little harder than he had previously.  "I saw the ID," he reminded her of what she had said moments before.  He had held more questionable company, much more questionable.  And he didn't believe that she would hurt anyone that wasn't, well, evil or didn't deserve it.  He had felt that Clark aura of protecting the innocent since they had met.  Hell, he himself had made sure that certain people had met with – certain destinies.  At least she had the courage to do it herself…  Although he had to admit, there was an indiscernible feeling that he had regarding the situation.  What was that?

"Damn it," she said softly.  He looked at her questioningly.  She decided to elaborate, "That means that Griffin was right."

Lex thought quickly, "The person you were on the phone with in the field next to the plant?"  She nodded.  After a moment he smirked, "Which is why only your cell phone experiences static."  She just didn't want anyone to overhear that conversation.

"You learn quickly," she stood. 

He stood up and started to walk beside her.  He was thinking of the few sentences he had heard when he brought her the water in the field, "Who is Gell?"  He saw her flinch.

"I told you that he quit," she began, "The things I told you were true.  I just changed a couple of the words to make it sound like I worked in an office."

"Did you ever even go to college?" he pieced together what information he had of the chronological events of her life.

"Not a day," she looked at him, "If you don't want me on this audit anymore…"

He stopped in the middle of the hallway, "The thought never crossed my mind.  As a matter of fact, Diane tells me you are the best she has ever seen.  So, how did you receive your training for this?"

She really didn't want to go into the details of how basically eliminating sleep from your life can open up hours of time for any number of endeavors, "I studied it off and on."

"Where did you go last week?" he had been wondering that ever since she had left.

She started walking again; she decided to lead their walk to her car.  He knows, she told herself.  It's OK.  "…Hong Kong," she answered simply.

He hadn't been expecting that.  Hong Kong was practically half way around the world.  

"Well," she spoke before he could say anything, "I never actually was 'in' Hong Kong."  He looked at her.  "It – was on the news.  At least that is what my men told me," she added.

Hong Kong about a week ago…  He read the papers but…  No way.  He gave her a questioning look, "There was that warehouse…"

"That warehouse contained hundreds of gallons of deadly chemical weapons," she said flatly.

"The paper said it was an accident, some kind of chemical reaction," he said.

"Mr. Luthor, don't make me get that little work of fiction found in today's Smallville Ledger to show you that you can't believe everything you read.  Or if you watched the television news, I'm sure you would have seen something just as inaccurate there as well," she gave him a sideways glance.  

He gave an instinctual reaction, "I read that article in The Daily Planet, not some small town leaflet like The Ledger."

"And?" her one word had an obvious questioning tone.

"It's a respected paper.  People do research …" he started.

"For someone who hates reporters, you sure put a lot of trust in the media," she said lightly.  When she told him she knew there would be a slight period of – adjustment to the truth.  People accept certain things and when they are found to be false, it can be a little – off setting.  She remembered it was even slightly difficult for her to adapt to some of the new knowledge she had gained.  But if anyone could do it, it was Lex.  

He thought about what she said for a moment.  He sighed slightly, but smiled when he saw the look on her face.  It was a raised eyebrow you-know-that-I'm-right look.  

"We do a lot of – work with some of the people at The Planet," she said.

He was oddly relieved that her statement no longer had any underlying meaning.  He knew what she meant.  

"Work?  Are you on their payroll as well?" he joked.

She wished there was a way to tell him how grateful she was for how understanding he was.  That he could just accept what she was and move on with only a lot of questions to answer was definitely a fair trade.  And besides, in a way she liked that he was so interested in her…  

"My organization has had a certain – rapport with a number of informational news sources for quite sometime," she informed him.  


	33. Chapter 33

He opened the front door to the mansion and observed her always-present pause when he did so.  It was like she never expected it, even though he did such things for her at every opportunity he had.  He thought the world was an unjust place; undeserving women like Victoria Hardwick were recipients of politeness and chivalry just because they were wealthy or promiscuous, while worthy women like Rhone Chade were left to feel unwanted because they were strong and unconventional.  Yet, a part of him secretly relished in the fact that he was the only one who treated her this way.  Did she find it – appealing?  She had never told him to stop…

They walked in the direction of her car.  "Are you leaving so soon?" he asked.

"I hadn't planned on it," she began, "Did you have something you needed to do?"

He was relieved, "Nothing."

"Are all billionaires so – insipid?" she asked lightly, a smile creeping onto her face.

He returned her slight smile, "Not everyone can save the world everyday."

"You never did answer my question," she started.  He tilted his head and looked at her questioningly as she opened her trunk.  "Do you think that a woman can be a hero?" she didn't make eye contact.  She was getting her portfolio out of the trunk.

There was no response to her question.  She grabbed her portfolio, straightened, and looked at him.  He was just looking at her.  He broke his gaze long enough to turn and close her trunk with one hand.  Then he took a small step towards her and looked into her eyes, "Now I do."

"Is this a recent development?" she asked as she moved to put the portfolio over her shoulder, but maintained the gaze.  

His nod was so small that it was almost imperceptible.  Lex held out his hand to take the portfolio from her.  "You don't have to…" she started.

He continued to hold out his hand with a look on his face that said he didn't have to carry it in, but he was going to.  She hesitantly gave it to him; it wasn't her artists' tube, but she still wasn't used to people doing stuff like that all the time.  When she was back on base, she was one of the guys.  They didn't treat her differently because she was a woman -- usually.  

They began to walk back toward the mansion.  Another question found its way to Lex, "Where is this – secret base?"

She chuckled, but when she looked at him she realized that he was serious.  "You have to realize, Mr. Luthor, there are some things that I just can't talk about; hence the phrase 'secret base," she said with an honest look on her face.  

"I assume that if I asked your real name, I would get a similar answer," he said dryly.  They looked at one another.  He didn't look angry, more like disappointed – possibly sad.  She felt a pang of guilt.

"At least before I told you something like that, I would tell you that it didn't matter," she started.  He looked at her as he opened the door for her.  "I have been Rhone Chade for a long time.  I am her," she finished.

"Then what does it matter if you tell me who you – were?" he said after a moment.

She put a foot on the first stair to go toward his office.  "There is an office building in Metropolis where no work gets done," she said vaguely.

"From my experience, that is the situation in most office buildings," Lex quipped as they ascended the stairs.  

"Well, this office doesn't even pretend to do anything," she smiled.  He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.  "It's empty, except for one phone.  No computers, no desks, no mailroom clerks, no office workers, no janitors, no one -- nothing," she said.

"That sounds like quite a waste," he didn't know what to say to this odd little anecdote.

She noticed that he didn't see where this was going.  "I work there," she paused for a moment and corrected, "She works there."

"I thought you said that no one works there," he pointed out.  

She began to explain, "When I joined the E.I.F. and officially became Rhone Chade, my old identity had to go somewhere.  Just like the identities of all of the people I work with had to go somewhere."

"Why don't you just forge some death certificates and make your new identities?  You obviously can," he observed.

She continued her clarification, "Because sometimes, we're lucky enough to get back to them."

"Lucky enough to get back to them?" he was furrowing his brow at her.

She didn't really mind talking about it, but it was kind of depressing in a way.  "If you live to see retirement, you might need work experience to get a different job or a place to live.  So you act like you have worked in that empty office for the time that you were an Elite.  And I think there is something sentimental in it for a lot of people, pretending to have had amnesia when you return to your family or the people you knew."

Did she just say, "If you live to see retirement?"  Lex realized what his earlier feeling was that he couldn't identify.  The realization of how dangerous her job really was settled in on him.  She could get hurt or – die at any time.  He set his jaw and looked at the floor; for some reason, he felt nauseated.  She said that Bishop guy was in his 50's…  "How old do you – do Elite Independent Forces have to be before they can retire?" he had to ask.

"Don't think that they have you for life or anything.  You can leave anytime you want once you're out of the red," she saw the look on his face.

"The red?" he questioned.

"More of that government bull shit we all know and love," she said, "It's a standardized formula, the government spends X amount of dollars to train and make ready a functioning unit – a soldier.  As you know, spending money without any return is a debt, a subtraction.  And if all you had were subtractions, in an accounting book it would be underlined or written in red.  When you have made or worked off the amount that they sunk into you, and any other expenses, you are out of the red.  Once you start turning a "profit" then you are in the black, in the positive."  

"But you get paid," he commented.

"Even common soldiers get paid, it doesn't effect your equation," she said matter-of-factly.  "We just get paid – more," she added.

"Are you – in the black?" he had to know.  Maybe he could convince her to take up a safer profession.  

"In my line of work, that is the equivalent of asking someone his or her age," she said with a grin as she entered his office.

"You don't seem like the type that would be offended buy a question like that," he replied.

"I'm not, I was just commenting," she finished, "And yes, I am in the black."

"How long does it take to get out of the red?" he asked.

"Are you looking for a new job, Mr. Luthor?" she smiled widely as they sat at the table in the room adjacent to his office.  That was the second time she had asked him that, maybe he was unconsciously in the job market.  

She observed that they sat in the same seats they had the first and last time they were in this room working on the comic book.  Human beings are creatures of habit, making them predictable – a dangerous thing for someone like her.  She observed the small distance between them.  She briefly closed her eyes and inhaled deeply and silently, concentrating on his scent.  Some habits were definitely worth flaunting with predictability for.  

She watched his smooth hands unclasp the portfolio and begin to take out its contents.  

Lex realized what he was doing, and turned around to see her watching him with a faint smile.  "I didn't mean to…" he began sliding the portfolio over to her.

"To what?" she looked at him, slightly confused.

"I just started going through your things," he gestured to the portfolio.

"Our things," she said with an encouraging smile, "We're partners."  She slid the portfolio toward him so it bumped his hand.  

His heart jumped.  He didn't know what to do.  He wanted to reach out to her and pull her close to him.  The things she said to him made him feel – wanted, like he meant something to someone.  It had been so long since he had felt like that.  

The only thing that he could do was smile.  If only he could just tell her what she meant to him, what having her there meant to him.  

She couldn't really read his expression.  She got the feeling like she should be catching more than just a smile, but she couldn't tell.  

He withdrew a piece of paper from the portfolio and stopped to look at it.  "I like this," he said, not taking his eyes off of it.

"I was going to run that by you, a little subplot that I thought might add something," she looked at it as well.  "I made some notes on the other side," she gestured toward the paper.

Lex turned it over and there was quite a lengthy description of what was happening on the front.  He started reading it when he heard a familiar soft ringing.  He watched her reach for one of her cargo pockets.  

Shit.  She pulled the phone out of her pocket and looked at the display screen.  She looked up at Lex to see him gesture with a slight nod to take it.  She pressed the button and with a barely audible sigh said, "Rhone Chade."

He realized that any call she could be getting could be really important.  He definitely didn't want her to leave again, but it could mean the difference between a disaster and helping hundreds, maybe thousands.  It was the least he could do – right?

"What happened?" Griffin's voice asked.

"Griff, what do you mean?" she said into her cell phone.

Lex looked up at her.  She talked to this guy a lot.  Whenever she was on the phone, it seemed like it was always with him.  He thought about asking her about him when she was done talking.  

"With Lex Luthor, what happened?" Griff asked again.

She paused for a moment.  She stole a glance at the subject of their conversation.  "…Nothing," she said.

"Nothing?" he questioned.  From the tone in his voice, she could tell he didn't believe her.  "…Where are you?" he asked after a small pause.

            "Is this what you called me for?" she asked flatly.  She heard someone say something in the background on Griff's end of the line.  Then there was another pause.

            "…You're there," he said softly but she could tell he was still grinning insanely.  She looked at the watch on her wrist, damn it all.  

            She stood and began to step away from the table.  Lex looked up at her.  The last time this happened she was gone for more than four days.  

She held up her index finger to imply that she wasn't going anywhere.  In a way, she wished that she were.  Even though he couldn't hear the whole conversation; she was feeling slightly embarrassed about the whole situation.  Her?  Embarrassed?  Her eyes remained on Lex.  No, she didn't wish at all that she were going anywhere.  "If you were going to do that," she began, "Why didn't you just do it in the first place?  -- Who else is there?"

"Just a couple of the guys…" he said vaguely.

"How many is a couple?" she asked more specifically.  She was a little more than slightly alarmed that more people were – involved in this conversation.

He thought about lying to her, but realized that if she tried hard enough that she could just figure it out on her own.  "Including me?" he asked.

Lex saw her posture change into one of slight irritation.  He wondered what they were talking about.  He wondered if he was actually listening to a conversation that involved saving the world.

"Including you," she said in a moderately mocking tone.

There was a pause, "Twenty-five.  But they're all busy; none of them are paying any attention."

Instantly, she turned her back to Lex.  "You devote our resources to things like this while I'm away?" she said in a firm but soft tone.

"Stop trying to avoid the subject, what happened with the billionaire?  Did you tell him?" the last part was said in a voice that spoke genuine concern.

God, she wanted to turn and look at Lex.  It bothered her that he was there and she couldn't admire him.  She figured that if she turned around, he would figure out that he was the topic of the conversation.  Lex was a smart guy.  She started to walk toward the door.  "Yeah," she answered Griffin's question.

"Holy shit.  I didn't think you would."

"What does that mean?" 

"It means – well, lets not kid ourselves here.  You've never trusted anyone that much," he said.

"I know," she said simply with a sigh.  She was in Lex's office and could allow a little more of her emotions to reach the surface.

"What did he say?" he asked interested.

Rhone thought about it for a moment, "Nothing really."

"Nothing?" he questioned in a disbelieving tone.

"Not really.  He just wanted to know more; he asks a lot of questions," she said absently.

"Whoa," was the response she got.

"What?" she asked at his vague reply.

"I think he likes you as much as you like him," Griffin said softly.

"It's not like that," Rhone said quickly.

"Right," Griffin shook his head even though she couldn't see him.  "What would I know about something like that anyway?" he asked both her and himself.  "I thought that I would call you and you wouldn't even pick up the phone," he finished.

She didn't say anything.  She didn't really know what that comment was supposed to mean.  "Did you think Lex wouldn't be talking to me after I told him?" she asked.

"Does that thought scare you so much that you think you would be incapable of motor movements if it happened?" he said in a tone that told her he was smiling.  

He noted that she had called the topic of conversation Lex.  He wondered if they had finally moved to a first name basis.  "Actually, I thought that if you told him, you would be too – tired to answer the phone," he allowed any implications that could possibly find their way into that statement to be there.

She blushed.  She was really happy that she had changed rooms and was alone.  "You're a pervert, Griff," she made her voice stoic.

He exhaled loudly, "Whatever.  …By the way, I do have something for you."  He started typing on the keyboard in front of him.

"What is it?" she asked although she had an idea.

"…Potential applicants," he said.

"Send it, I'll link up in five," she said and hung up the phone.  


	34. Chapter 34

Lex sat at the table, inking the picture in front of him.  He picked it up and held it away from him.  He thought that he was getting better at it.  Who was he kidding; it sucked.  Rhone had these great drawings and ideas and he just scribbled on them.  

She had left the room a few minuets ago and he had noticed that her voice was no longer coming from the adjacent room.  He was starting to think that he should go and find her.

The object of his thoughts walked through the door.  She had her laptop case in one hand.  He looked at her expectantly.

"I just have to get something from work – base," she corrected herself.

Lex smiled at her correction.  He really liked being a part of this, a part of – her life.  "If you want the internet…" he started.

"Not really," she said honestly.

He really didn't know how she expected to get documents on her computer without some kind of Internet connection.  He watched her get out her laptop on the other side of where she had been sitting.  She turned it on and while it was booting up, went into her bag again.  She pulled out a small piece of curved metal with a wire coming from it.  He tilted his head as he tried to make out what it was.

She wondered if it was all right for him to see this.  Surely, the general populace had an inkling that things of this sort existed.  She plugged in the device and began fanning out the small curved piece of metal.  

It was a satellite receiver.  It was blatant when it was fanned out.  Lex wondered if she had any other gadgets around.  While standing, she clicked a few things with her mouse and arranged the receiver.  

Then she sat down beside Lex once more and started to arrange the comic book supplies that she would need.  "I like the idea you laid out here," Lex gestured to the paper he had been looking at before.  

"It's long," she said both to herself and to Lex.  Lex nodded softly in agreement.  Rhone moved to place the paper back into the portfolio.  

Lex shook his head, "How can you do that?"

She paused and looked at him, "Do what?"

"Just toss an idea that you put so much into," Lex clarified.

"For one, I'm not just tossing it.  I might use it somewhere else, or change it and use it somewhere else.  It just isn't going to work in what we are doing," she said.  "And two, I didn't put that much into it.  It's a sketch and some notes; it took me less than ten minutes," she expounded.  

"But coming up with the idea…" he started.

"Took me about five seconds," she said.  She really didn't understand what he was driving at.

"All of that took you five seconds?" he said, slightly disbelieving her.  

She held out her hands in a gesture that said she didn't know what the big deal was.  You think of something and either it goes into the final piece or it winds up on the cutting room floor.  It wasn't like he could take it personally; it wasn't like it was his idea being scrapped.  

He remembered when they first started working on this two days ago.  She bull shitted the entire idea in about ten seconds.  He wondered what it was like to just have ideas pouring out of you, creative and good ideas.  Maybe it just takes practice.  Maybe she was just talented.  He was definitely leaning toward the latter.  

She interrupted his thoughts, "It isn't a subplot."  He looked up at her as she was brining the paper closer to her again.  "It's a plot," she emphasized the word "a."  She clarified, "It's a sequel."  She didn't realize what she was doing when she was envisioning it, but when she looked at it…  Was it intentional, a reason for them to work on something else together?

"I think that that is a good idea," Lex said, implying that they should make a sequel.  It would be a reason to – collaborate again.

"We really don't have the time," she pointed out.  Was that regret she felt?

Lex felt that now familiar tight feeling in his chest.  He looked at her and was about to say something but he heard a cold, flat, male voice.  It said, "Incoming files."  He looked to her computer; he had forgotten about it until it – spoke.

She reached over and turned the volume down on her computer somewhat.  She slowly turned to Lex.  "I've been thinking," she began.

Lex slightly tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, implying that he was interested in knowing what she had been thinking.

"You should hold on to this," she gestured to what they had worked on together.

At first, Lex was pleased, but it immediately began to fade.  If he had everything that they had worked on, she wouldn't have a single memento of their time together.  Would she forget him?  Of course she would, she saved the world on a regular basis.  She definitely had other things on her mind.  After a moment his looked changed to one of determination, "We're partners."

A faint smile found its way to her lips.  As she leaned back into her chair and looked at the ceiling, she said, "But your partner can't be famous.  Not even 'comic book' famous, and now you know why."

Lex hadn't had a chance to actually make some of the obvious connections about their interactions.  He remembered their conversation in the library when she said that fame was not an option.  If people recognized her, that would be – dangerous.  Any sort of undercover work would be out of the question and fans would try to hunt her down.  He understood enough about her job to recognize that it would require complete anonymity.  

He thought about the kind of person that she was; fame really didn't suit her anyway.  However, she was beautiful enough to be famous.  He had fame, or at least recognition, and was less than pleased with what it had gotten him:  hordes of intolerable women, slanderous and insinuating stories, people posing as friends, often having to pretend to be something you are not.  

She saw that he was thinking about something.  She looked at him and said, "Who in the hell would want to be famous anyway?"

He looked at her with a smirk, "A lot of people do."

"True heroes don't need gratitude," she said.

He could tell by the way that she said it that she was quoting someone.  He was quite well read, but could not place it.  That was odd.  

He was about to ask her who said it when she leaned over and hit a few buttons on her laptop.  He watched her lean closer to it, get up, and scoot over to the chair next to the one she was in to sit in front of the glowing screen.  

Lex stole a glance at the monitor, but quickly looked down at what he was working on.  He didn't want her to think that he was the equivalent of a nosey child.  …He couldn't read the text from that far away anyway.

Rhone looked at Lex.  He could have looked at what she was doing.  There weren't any names in it.  She always just looked at an abbreviated version; the whole name and history thing was Griff's department.  She grazed through the four files he had sent her and was displeased.  Normally, Griff could take an order and fulfill it quite well.  

With a set jaw, she took out her phone again and dialed a number.

The outside line beeped.  He knew it would.  He looked at it for a moment and it beeped again.  

After a moment he heard a voice from behind him, "Griff, I could hire a trained monkey in army fatigues to answer that if you don't think you can handle it."

"Yeah, but then I would have to watch it use sign language to tell people that you abuse it sexually," Griffin replied.  An empty water bottle connected with the back of his head with a hollow 'thunk.'  

"Only if it was a chimp, got body and brains in one sweet package.  And I see a lot of movies, they let you dress them up in human clothes – sexy human clothes," the other man said.

"You're sick, Awol," Griff looked back at the man that had thrown the water bottle.

"Hey, you're the one that got me thinking about alluring primates," Awol pointed out as he looked at the ceiling and twirled in his chair.

Griffin chuckled to himself.  Well, it's now or never, he thought.  He picked up the receiver, "Speedy Joe's Pizza Delivery."

"Griff, what is this shit that you sent me?" the flat voice of Rhone Chade was in his right ear.

"Applicants," Griffin answered.  He knew she wasn't mad, she never really was.  Not nearly as often as she could be anyway.  Or maybe she was and she was just really good at hiding her emotions.  

"I worry when I leave and you cannot fulfill a simple request," she didn't like referring to what she asked them to do as orders.

"You?  Worry?  Rhone Chade, I do believe the billionaire is turning you soft," he teased.  

"I told you that I wanted a woman," she said.  He could tell that she was directing the conversation away from things that compromise her reputation – if that were possible.

He leaned over his work station and talked softly into the receiver, "I know, but…  Let's just be honest, Rhone, women like you sure as hell don't grow on trees."

"Is that a compliment?" she asked.

"Why don't you ask Lex?" he couldn't help it.  He just had to tease her about it; it was just too damn fun.  

"I like the marksman.  If not him, then the pilot," she decided not to dignify that last remark with a comment.

"Agreed, but the marksman won't say no.  No one ever does," he brought up the files on a computer screen in front of him.  It took a certain – breed of person to do this line of work.  They knew what that breed was; what to look for – no one ever said no.  

"I want him there when I get back," she said as she hung up the phone.

Griff set the phone down and pondered his EX-O.  She was a great leader, a natural at – well, everything they had taught her.  And she was only getting better…

He didn't mind admitting that she was his best friend, even though they technically weren't supposed to have friends.  Because he was in that unique position, he knew that she needed something.  There was a part of her soul that had always been vacant.  Recently, he realized that she didn't need something – she needed someone.  He really didn't want to see her so – alone.  Could he believe that Lex Luthor, son of questionable business and personal practices Lionel Luthor, had even the remotest possibility of filling that void?  Weren't there any nice unaffiliated guys in this world?  He smiled when he realized that the answer to his last question was no.


	35. Chapter 35

Clark pivoted his telescope farther and farther towards the horizon.  It was late September and the days were getting shorter.  So, he took advantage of this darkness by increasing his – study of astronomy.  

He continued slowly guiding the telescope downwards.  He stopped and began to focus the lens.  Sometimes he thought that focusing on something so close was more difficult than something that was millions of miles away.  Maybe he just held certain objects to a higher standard.  

She was draped in a red afghan, swinging on the porch swing.  Perfect, Clark thought with a smile as he took his hands away from the focus.  

"Clark!" a familiar female voice was at the entrance of the barn.  

Clark straightened and began walking towards the voice, "I'm up here, Chloe."  He heard heavy footsteps as Chloe hurried up the stairs and into his barn loft.  He left the general area of his telescope.  He didn't know if his friend knew what – stars he normally viewed, but didn't want to draw any unnecessary attention to it.  

As soon as she was off the stairs she held up the white paper that she was holding.  Clark didn't have to look at it to know what it was, today's edition of The Smallville Ledger.  

"Did you see this?" she asked with wide eyes.

Clark sat down on the couch, "My parents showed it to me when I got home."

"And?!?" she said.

"And what, Chloe?  They got their facts a little messed up.  It's The Ledger, not The Planet," Clark tried to brush it off.  He agreed with his parents, it was a good thing for him to be painted as a victim.  Saving people all the time, being the hero, had gotten some people – suspicious.  

"I know the people at The Ledger, Clark.  This is no one there named Chad E. Rohen.  And when I asked them about it, they said it was some guy that wrote it freelance and sent it to them.  They checked the story with the police and they confirmed it," Chloe was obviously very agitated about the whole situation.  She tossed the article onto the couch and walked over to the telescope.

Clark tensed up.  "Well then, what's the problem?" Clark asked.

Chloe spun to look at him, "The problem is you were there.  I was there; Pete was there.  This story is a lie, a fabrication.  And the police are in on it."

Clark knew that she was telling the truth.  He was at the bank robbery; the story was inaccurate.  "Why?  Who would want something like that covered up?  It was just a bank robbery," he tried his Chloe-leave-this-alone voice.  The Chad E. Rohen, Rhone Chade anagram had not escaped him as it so clearly had his friend.  She was obviously just trying to cover up her abilities.  She didn't really use them, but she probably just didn't want anyone investigating.  How she had falsified police reports was something that eluded him.

"I don't know," she said sarcastically to emphasize her statement, "maybe Smallville's resident billionaire."

Clark leaned back on the couch and looked at the ceiling.  He sighed, "What could this possibly have to do with Lex?  He was on the floor with everyone else."

Chloe set her jaw.  She looked at the telescope.  Its horizontal alignment and the direction it faced only served to agitate her further.  "Not everyone else," she looked back to Clark.

"Rhone saved us from a couple of guys with guns, Chloe.  We are lucky she was there," Clark saw that Chloe was about to say something, but continued with his thought.  "And I know you think something is up because of that article in Pete's magazine.  But she may not be the same person," Clark finished.

Chloe nodded, angry that her naïve friend was right.  She set her hand on the telescope and twirled it on its base.  She felt slightly better and wondered how long it would take Clark to once again align his telescope on Lang Prime.

"I still don't understand what you think this has to do with Lex," Clark added when he realized he was going to have to ignore what his friend had inadvertently done to obstruct his – stargazing.

"Did you even read the article?  He obviously had someone submit that report to further his reputation as a good guy that got a bum wrap.  God forbid, he even might have written it himself," she finished.

Clark had an idea, "Well, there you go.  It was all a publicity stunt.  The whole thing; the robbery, Rhone Chade's convenient appearance in Smallville," Clark hoped that Rhone would appreciate this.  Chloe could be quite – tenacious.  …Of course she would appreciate it.  They had a – link in their abilities; he understood her need to cover it up.

Chloe gave him a look that said she didn't want to believe him, but she was.  It made perfect sense.  She walked over to the couch and plopped down, looking at the newspaper.  The woman was a complete stranger and helped them with their chemistry homework.  She was nice…  Maybe after the fighting ring in Metropolis she just started doing things like this instead.  But still…

"I want to interview her," Chloe said absently.  

Clark looked at her, "I thought we just…"

"I want to know more about that underground fighting – whatever it is.  A story like that would look great in my portfolio," she said.  She had just lost what could have been one hell of a story about police corruption and vigilante justice, she sure as hell wasn't going to let go of this exposé about the Metropolis underground.

She pushed the off button on her phone and looked at it in her hand for a moment.  She knew that Griffin was right.  Finding a woman was much easier said than done.  She hadn't even heard of a female candidate since she was recruited.  And the only other one she had ever known was Thalia.  But the two of them had – very different specialties.  

"You," a voice interrupted her thoughts, "Really are their – leader."

She looked to her right, to the stunning man that sat two seats from her.  He was looking at her, head slightly tilted.  "Did I come off as the kind of woman that took orders?" she emphasized the word "took."

"Not for a moment," he shook his head slightly.

She began putting her computer back in its case.  After a moment she said, "I'm not their 'leader,' I'm their EX-O."

He had heard the abbreviation before.  He ventured with his previous knowledge, "Executive Officer."  She gave a slight nod as she put the satellite receiver into her laptop case.  "Aren't they two different terms for the same thing?" he questioned.

"I should hope not," she said as she sat in the chair next to Lex once again.  "A leader has – drones.  An EX-O has men.  Executive Officers give orders, yes, but only when it is necessary; when it comes to our work, in the field, or on a mission.  We rarely give them in other circumstances.  Otherwise, we are more of a – guide," she paused and thought about what she had just said.  

"Guide to what?" Lex leaned forward.  She looked at him.  He could tell that she was thinking.

"That's hard to explain," she concluded, "Probably because -- I'm not good at it."  After a long moment she shook her head and quietly said, "He was."  

She said it in such an absent way, looking across the room at nothing in particular.  Lex thought about the EX-O she had mentioned as he watched her face become one of faint sadness.  "Where is Bishop now?" he asked.  

"When you're elected EX-O, you're EX-O for life.  Until retirement or death," she explained.  After a short pause she added, "EX-O's normally don't retire."

"I'm sorry," he didn't know what else to say.  She obviously had a – kinship with the man.  

"You didn't do it," she responded vacantly.  She shook her head at the vivid memory of Bishop's death, "That was almost three years ago."

"You didn't know him for very long," Lex observed.

"Some people have the ability to radiate greatness.  They change your life the moment they touch it," she looked at him seriously.  

He felt as though she were looking into him, to his core, "I'm beginning to find that out."

"Why a woman?" he asked, breaking the long comfortable silence that had fallen between them.  He was tempted to not say anything at all, to preserve the quiet that accompanied their work on the comic book.  Why did he have to know everything – to ruin everything?  Slightly delayed, he turned his head to gage her response.  

She didn't move, aside from her drawing.  Her eyes remained focused on what she was sketching.  "Hn?" she still hadn't looked up.

Lex smiled at how engrossed she was in what she was doing.  He leaned over slightly and looked at what she was drawing.  She was absorbed for a reason; it was an exceptionally good panel.  "What is the difference if the new person you – hire is a woman?" he clarified.  The question had been running through his head since she had said it on the phone earlier.  

She continued drawing and said, "Damn Affirmative Action and their gender quotas."  

It had been a few hours since she had used her – infinite wealth of sarcasm on him.  He assumed that she was still unsure of how he would react to his new knowledge of her – occupation, giving him a break.  Maybe she thought that he might just be on edge for a short time.  He really wasn't, but it was a – courteous precaution on her part.  

She looked up at her companion and saw him raising an eyebrow at her in an amused I-know-that's-bull-shit-look.  "I don't want to get into a whole gender superiority argument with you, but in many ways women are – well, better suited for my kind of work," she said informatively.

"Why better?" he asked.  He set his inking pen aside and turned in his chair to face her.

Her voice became more flat, like the one she used when she became that person he didn't know.  Like a person that saw more of the world than anyone else had any idea about; like a young person with a weight of wisdom on her shoulders.  "When properly trained, women have better stamina and the difference in pain thresholds is – tremendous," she shook her head lightly at the last word.  Her gaze told him that she was thinking of something.

"It appears that most of your organization is male," he ventured with his limited knowledge.

"I am the only woman," she verified.

"Why then…" his voice trailed off.

 "Finding someone to recruit is difficult enough," she began, "but finding a woman is – near impossible."

"But if they are so much better for it…" he started.

"You have to find one that basically lacks the nurturer instinct," she concluded.  

At that last statement, it occurred to Lex how much she had just revealed about herself.  But he knew her, and didn't really believe it.  She was the most wonderful woman that he had ever met – in a way that differed from his mother -- and one of the kindest people.  He ironically wondered if the bank robber with the fractured skull felt the same way.  Her occupation wasn't exactly geared toward compassion.  A thought occurred to him, "You seem to have found a balance."  

"Some time ago, I realized, that from my perspective, there were two groups of people in this world," she said simply.

"Just two?" Lex teased her simplification as she often did to his.

He was slightly startled at her response.  "Just two," she repeated. "Those I protect, and those I protect them from," she clarified.  

Lex was silent for a moment, "That is quite a burden."

Both her voice and expression became soft and honest, like the ones he knew, "That is quite an honor."

Lex shook his head and said quite softly, "Are you for real?"  He didn't doubt that she believed what she just said.  It was just so hard to believe that someone so young could be so – was there a word for it?  Valiant?

She laughed lightly, "What kind of a question is that?"

An honest one, he thought to himself.  Maybe he should try to touch her – to see if she actually was there.  Of course she was…  Maybe he should try to touch her anyway…  

He cracked a small smile and shook his head faintly as he turned back to his inking.  He wondered if some people were just born with that kind of altruism or if it was something that she was trained to think…  He stole a glance at her again, as she returned to intently drawing her panel.  …She was born that way.  It radiated off of her like it radiated off of Clark.  

            She didn't understand why what she said would seem so unbelievable.  But when she actually thought about it, it did seem a little unrealistic.  …What happened to patriotism?  No, what happened to – honor.  Whenever she used the word honor, she always thought it – ironic.  Maybe there was a reason things in her life had happened the way that they did.  Perhaps certain things were meant to be.  She stole a glance at Lex – and, sadly, other things were not…  She looked back to her work.  Like that was ever an option for you anyway, she thought dryly.  Even if you could, he would never…

            "I think that it should be left black and white," she said casually.

            It hadn't occurred to Lex, "Isn't all of your work in color?"

            "Only the ones that I've shown you," she said, pretending to taunt him.

            "Do you have a lot of them?" Lex asked.

            "Comic books in general or just black and white comic books?" she returned his question with a question.  

            Lex turned to face her fully, "Both."

            "I have a lot that are in color, all of the fictional stories, basically," she said with a small nod.

            "You write non-fiction comics as well?" he asked slightly surprised.  He had never read any comics like that.  

            "Those are the ones that are in black and white," she added.

            "Why?" he wondered out loud.

            "Because I need to get them done fast, so they can be accurate – nonfiction," she clarified.

            He tilted his head slightly, "What exactly are they about?"  He didn't quite understand why something like that was – urgent.  If it was something researched, it could definitely wait…

            When she was going to say it out loud it sounded so vain.  She wondered if he would think that.  What does it matter what he thinks...?  She looked at him, studying the contours of this skull…  It does matter – he's my friend, she thought quickly.

            Lex narrowed his eyes.  He took this slight pause as a sign that she was concocting one of her vague statements that conveniently were just true enough to not be lies.  

            She decided not to lie…  This whole friendship thing was just getting weirder and weirder.  "They're," she paused for a very brief moment, "about me."

            He turned his full attention to her, "Can I see them?"

            She laughed lightly.  When she was finished he was still looking at her – he was serious.  Her face became one of slight surprise, "No."

            "Why not?" he asked sincerely.

            "They really aren't stories.  Just little episodes – if something interesting happens on a mission, I like to keep a record of it," she explained.

            "So, they are about your work?" Lex clarified.

            "Basically," Rhone replied.  Her life revolved around her work.  

            "I definitely want to see them," he said with a smile.

            "Some of them have – valuable data in them," she concluded.  "Some of it is so classified, I don't think God himself knows about it," she added as an afterthought.  They were dangerous; they were honest.  There were none from before the fighting ring in Metropolis; her life wasn't interesting enough.  But they chronicled her life pretty accurately after she joined the E.I.F.

            Lex regretted allowing a small look of disappointment cross his face.  He diverted his eyes downward; he didn't want her to think of him as some rich kid that pouted when he didn't get something that he wanted.  But he really did want to see them – they were about her.  It would be true insight into how she saw herself.  It was difficult to get that kind information about – well, anyone.

            She saw the look.  It was just an instant, and now she wanted to toss herself out a window.  Well, not that it would matter, but it was the principle…  "I'll see what I can do," she said softly.

            Lex looked up and a wide smile spread across his lips.

            Thank you, she thought as she returned his smile.  …Damn it.


	36. Chapter 36

            She started to put her things away.  Lex put down the ink pen he had in his hand and looked at her.  She said, "I guess I better get back to the hotel."

            "It's late and there are plenty of empty rooms here," he began, "Actually, I think it is larger than the Smallville Hotel."  Rhone Chade sleeping under his roof…  Lex immediately realized that he just volunteered for an absolutely sleepless night and he didn't mind in the least.  He didn't sleep much anyway…

            "Most tool sheds are larger than the Smallville Hotel," she joked.  Was he really serious about her staying there?  She might have to take up sleepwalking…  This was a bad idea.  

            Lex smiled widely at her verbal jab at her living arrangements.

            Ok, this would be a horrible idea, she convinced herself.  She shoved what was left of her things into her portfolio.  "We really don't have that much left to do," she said as Lex scooped up the portfolio before she could sling it over her shoulder.  He was getting quite good at that – but then, it wasn't exactly like she wanted to stop him either.

            "It didn't seem to take that long," Lex observed as he began to leave the room.

            She gave him a sideways glance, "Well, it is a pretty short story.  And I think it took more time than you realize."

            Lex quickly calculated the approximate time that they worked on the comic book, "I guess time flies when you are in good company."

            "I'm beginning to find that out," she repeated his earlier words without looking at him.

            Lex smiled at the floor, blushing slightly.  He made sure that she wasn't looking at him and rubbed his left hand over his head.  She never did answer his question, as to whether or not she would stay the night.  He straightened, "I'll have Mark make up a guest room."  Maybe she wouldn't notice -- of course she would.

            "You would wake up that poor guy at this hour?  You are an ass, Mr. Luthor," she said with a smirk.

            Lex glanced at his watch.  So it would be – less than considerate to wake up Mark now.  "Do you speak that way to everyone that offers you such hospitality?" he asked with a smile.

            "The men that invite me to spend the night either want to take advantage of me or kill me," she added after a moment, "Usually the later."  

            Lex chucked.  

            "Ok, always the later," her voice was exasperated.  There was a few times that she had an inkling that they – didn't want to kill her.  …That was ridiculous.  They certainly didn't want…  

            "I don't believe that," Lex looked at her with a smile.

            "Well, normally I don't make that good of a house guest," she admitted.  She thought back to more than one instance where she made an entrance by shattering a large, expensive window with a poised automatic weapon.

            "This is well behaved?" Lex taunted.

            "You have no idea how hard I have been trying," she said with a slight laugh.

            "Probably not as hard as you think," he complimented.  They reached the door and Lex pulled it open.

            The evening was cool and a faint breeze brushed Rhone's face.  She breathed in deeply and absorbed the smell that was uniquely a fall evening in the country.  Before she met the man that accompanied her, this was the smell she most associated with relaxation – with peace – with calm.  She gazed at the night sky, just enjoying her surroundings instead of analyzing them.  …Before she met Lex Luthor.  

            Lex had an idea of what she was doing.  He looked around and – didn't see it.  He wasn't the outdoors type.  Although, when he looked at her, a serene look on her face – he still didn't get it.  But she struck that same primal cord of tranquility in him.  

            He opened the door of her car, "So, I'll see you tomorrow?"  He handed her the portfolio after she got in.  He leaned down and into her car, resting one hand on the roof of the car and the other on the doorframe.  

            "I don't know, Mr. Luthor," she began.

            He felt his heart jump slightly, why not?

            "We might be done with the audit before three in the afternoon.  Do you think that you can make it to the Plant before then?" she finished.

            He nodded his head and attempted to look annoyed but was betrayed by an upturning of the corners of his lips, "Nice.  I thought you were on your best behavior?"

            "I said that I was trying.  As in, I'm not very good at it," she looked into his eyes, returning his small smile.  He was searching her face with perfect blue eyes.  …His face was close to hers.  She had to commandeer her autonomic reflexes to stop the blush in her cheeks.  Why was he looking at her like that?  She immediately broke their gaze and slipped her key into the ignition of her car, "So, I'll see you tomorrow."  She put on a practiced smile that conveyed ignorance to the moment they had just experienced – or almost just experienced.  

 "Yeah," he said as he retreated out of the car.  He took a step back and shut her car door.  He watched her tail lights recede into the darkness as she drove down his driveway.  Lex just stood there, he didn't know what else to do.  He ran both his hands over his head and laced his fingers at the base of his skull, directing his gaze at his feet on the ground.  

He turned slowly, thinking.  Did I do something wrong?  Did he do the right thing, just letting her go?  …Am I second-guessing myself?  Have I ever second-guessed myself?  At least he knew the answer to that was no, but somehow that was not comforting.  

He was close enough; he could have kissed her.  He felt his cheeks and ears get hot at the thought.  He didn't even want to think about the last time he had reacted in such a way to a mere thought.  He knew it was a really long time ago – he was still a kid.  You can't even bring yourself to hold her hand – to touch her at all.  He unlaced his fingers and looked up at the mansion.  The only light that was on was the one in the entryway.  …One light on, alone.  He looked back down the driveway, where he had last seen Rhone's taillights – blackness.  

She could still see Lex's mansion.  Ok, she was watching Lex's mansion.  Something told her not to drive, so she pulled over.  It wasn't a premonition; it was just a feeling of…  It was just an odd feeling.  Maybe she wasn't getting enough fluids, because this obviously had nothing to do with what had just happened.  It had nothing to do with Lex Luthor, bald Adonis, being so close to her.  It had nothing to do with her wanting…  Wanting what?  Nothing happened.

…She was scared?  Scared of what?  No, she couldn't be frightened; he felt right – their friendship – friendship felt right.  Besides, Rhone Chade knows nothing of fear; at least that is what everyone told her.  But then, she was to know nothing of desire either – do not use that word, she warned herself.

She relaxed into her seat and lessened her grip on the steering wheel.  She was rattled.  It was an interesting sensation.  One she had not known since – well, it had been a few years.    

The lone light at Luthor manor extinguished.  Rhone continued to watch where it had been.  


	37. Chapter 37

Lex walked into his office, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and bottled water in the other.  "Are there...?" he looked up from placing the bottled water into his coat pocket.  His secretary was not at her desk.  Maybe she had to get some copies or something.  He was showing up quite a bit earlier than he had been this week – 9 am.  

He started to go for his keys with his free hand, but realized that the door to his office was ajar.  What the...?

He put his coffee to his lips and pushed the door open.  There were five people in his office, standing around his desk -- a rare occasion.  Present were the three rude invoice checkers, his secretary, and Rhone Chade -- looking exquisite in that dark fitted pants suit.  She was the only one that had turned to look at him when he walked in.

He wondered how much he would be willing to pay for her to lose that damn hair clip thing.  …Those auburn waves cascading over her body…  

"Mr. Luthor," Rhone said, shaking him from his thoughts.  "You'll be pleased to hear that the audit was completed this morning," she added, adjusting her artist's tube across her back.  

He was walking toward his desk.  Why would he be happy to hear that?  Why was she looking at him so seriously?  "You're finished early," he said coolly, despite his feelings of angst.  He rounded his desk and set his coffee on it.  

"Despite the number of difficulties that we faced," Ben Carls said in an exasperated voice.  Faith Reed and Jean Rex nodded in silent agreement.

Lex decided to ignore this comment and sat in his chair, looking at the typed form in front of him.  Basically, it said that the invoice audit had been completed, the names of everyone involved, and a generalized schedule of what had been done each day.

"Well, at least you didn't have to put up with gross incompetence like I did," Rhone's voice said flatly.

Lex looked up, a moderate look of shock on his face.  Rhone was eyeing the three invoice checkers up and down slowly, using that voice again.

"Oh, no offence of course," she added without a hint of emotion, not taking her eyes off of them.  

"Now you…" Faith Reed had an angry look on her face – all three of them did.

Lex and his assistant, Claire, watched silently.  It was kind of like watching a train wreck; you just had to.

"I know, I'm a saint for putting up with you for as long as I did," Rhone interrupted.  She picked up the typed form in front of Lex and handed it toward the three people that had every ounce of her attention, "Sign."  

Faith Reed ripped the typed paper out of Rhone's hand and leaned over Lex's desk to sign it.  "You're impossible," she muttered at the desk.

"I'm not here to debate metaphysics with you," Rhone rolled her eyes.  

Lex and Claire both stifled a smile.  Lex wondered if it was like this in that invoice office all week.  …He should have made a trip down there.

Everyone else signed the paper, Claire signing as a witness to the other signatures.  Jean put it in her briefcase and looked directly at Rhone, "It's going to be a very thorough report."

"We both know that that isn't true," Rhone said, "Because there is no way that you can do that without bringing light to your own ineptitude."  Rhone cast a stoic look at Lex and in a tone that implied a pleasant business goodbye said, "Mr. Luthor."  Then she turned on the heels of her sneakers and began to walk toward the door.  She could tell from the sound on the carpet that her "employees" were following behind, leaving Plant Number Three.  They would get into their minivan and drive back to Metropolis…

Lex was about to jump out of his chair.  She would just leave like that?  Should he tell Claire to stop her?  Run after her himself?  He didn't even know how to find her, how to contact her at all.  Classified information…

"Ms. Chade," Claire spoke up and ripped Lex from his panic – anxiety.  Rhone, who was at the door, stopped and looked at Claire.  Behind her, her subordinates stopped and looked back as well.  "As a supervisor and impartial observer of the operations of Luthor Corp.'s Plant Number Three, we ask that all people in your position fill out this survey regarding what you think of our procedures – for our records," she grabbed a manila folder off of Lex's desk and held it up.  

Lex turned to his assistant with a puzzled look.  Survey?  Had Claire lost it?  He had never heard of such a thing, and he had been a part of Luthor Corp. for…

"Of course," Rhone began to retrace her steps, toward the desk again.  She didn't look at the people she had worked with as she walked past them.  She walked with her shoulders back, confident – like someone that could have walked right through them if they didn't move out of her way.  

Rhone grasped the folder as the door closed behind the three that had exited.  "Were you going to wait until I actually got to Metropolis?" she smiled directly at Claire.

"Honey, I wasn't expecting a show when I walked in here," Claire returned the smile, implying Rhone's exchange with those that had just left the office.

"The fact that you expected less hurts me," Rhone placed her hand over her heart, a mock serious look on her face.  

"I don't know what I was thinking," Claire let out a small laugh.

Rhone looked over and saw Lex watching them.  She handed him the folder she had taken from Claire.  

Lex opened the folder and smiled.  With a soft shake of his head, "I really wish that you two would involve me in your theatrics."  He held up the Chinese take out menu that was in the folder.

"But, Mr. Luthor, then you would have to get here on time," Rhone said with a smirk.

"Why the show?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

"If I stayed behind…" she began, "I don't care to have any speculations about our friendship compromising the integrity of that report."  After a moment she added, "And seeing that bewildered look on your face is priceless."

"Luthors are never bewildered," Lex gave her a half smile.  He was -- relieved.  She actually wanted to stay – maybe what almost happened last night wasn't out of the question.  Thank God for that smile…  Thank God for her…  

"Well then, I guess Rhone isn't the only good actor in the room," Claire said with a chuckle as she walked toward the door.

Before Lex could say anything, Rhone said, "I love her."  She was watching Claire shut the door behind her.

"Because she's insubordinate?" he asked and then observed, "…which she just started doing after you got here."  He remembered the bottled water he had put in his pocket and handed it to her.

"Are you saying that I'm a bad influence?" she asked innocently.  She took the water with a large smile.

"Are you going to try and convince me that you are not?" he retorted teasingly.

In mock insult she plucked the Chinese take-out food menu out of Lex's hand, "I guess Claire and I will be dining alone this afternoon."

"You would leave me to starve?" he put his hands in his pockets.

"Looks like you might just have to find another contributor to The Feed A Billionaire Program," she joked.

"I'll remember that the next time a recipient of The Feed An Elite Soldier Organization knocks on my door," he shrugged his shoulders and smiled.

She laughed at that, "You know how to get what you want.  You should come to work for me."  She tossed the take-out menu onto the desk lightly.

 "I was just about to say the same thing to you," his smile faded and he looked at her.

"That you want a job?" she said with a wide smile.

"No, that you should work for me," he said seriously.  He didn't want her -- getting hurt.  He picked up the Chinese food menu and looked at it absently.  

"Doing what?  Personal on-call assassin?" she asked a little too seriously.

He was thinking more along the lines of working in his invoice office.  Perhaps being a personal comic book creator or his very personal body guard…  "I think that your abilities extend far beyond the," he searched for the right word, "Extreme."

She knew that he wasn't trying to offend her.  She tried to understand what it was like, being outside and looking in at her position.  Her face had inadvertently become one of discontent as she thought.  Jobs that were dangerous were normally considered undesirable, which was why they often paid better.  

"I didn't mean to imply that your – occupation was…" he didn't know what he implied, but he knew he definitely could have put it better.  He cast his eyes to the menu again.  

Her face lightened, "I know."

"So?" he led her, regarding his job offer.

"I know – a lot about your finances," she began, "And I don't know what you think you know about me."  There was a pause, "But in all honesty, Mr. Luthor, you couldn't afford me."  A knowing and serious smile found her lips.  

Well, there was a first time for everything.  He never thought that he would ever hear those words.  "Not even for an office job?" he was a little put off.

"What, like a temp?" her smile widened.

"No, like in the invoice office," he gave her a be-serious-smile.  

It was appealing to think about spending time with him, not having to leave.  But could she stay in some little town – that in ways she didn't like to think about, reminded her of home?  "I like what I do.  I make a difference…" she started.

"I understand that," he said to her honestly.

"No you don't," she held up a silencing hand, "I do what I do for you."  An imploring look crossed his features.  "Capitalism, democracy, freedom," she continued, "Those are great words.  But they're just words, without something – someone to stand up for them…"

Guilt had been rising in him for a few moments now.  She truly believed what she said, and it made him want to too.  She had even used the word "honor" when she talked about defending people.  And the way she was talking about all these ideals…  She didn't just wave a novelty flag and eat red, white, and blue cake on The Fourth of July.  "I'm sorry," he looked at the floor.

"Don't be, you don't see the things I do.  And despite all your sources, you don't know how many times our country has been this close," she held up her thumb and index finger an inch apart, "to the brink -- physically, politically, and economically -- even in our lifetimes.  Hell, in the past few years.  And you turn on the TV and what do you see?  Two completely oblivious anchor people behind a desk talking about how they want to change the weather – how they want the sun to shine, when they should be worried about how they came inches from experiencing a temperature hundreds of time hotter than the sun right here in a matter of seconds."  She realized what she was doing, damn soap box.  He was looking at her like – Ok she didn't know what look he was giving her.  

The thought had never occurred to him that she would be under so much pressure.  She really didn't show it.  Maybe it was just another day at the office for her and anchor people just pissed her off.  He could see where that would happen.

"And besides," she prepared one of her favorite quotes of all time, "I didn't spend all of those years playing Dungeons and Dragons and not learn a thing or two about courage."  She gave him a lop-sided grin.

There was another one of those words, courage.  He couldn't help but smile as he shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  He was wondering if he could find a way to bottle her wisdom, her altruism.  Altruism?  That was the word that that guy had used when he recruited her – Bishop.  At this moment, Lex came to the firm belief that he would give a lot to meet that man.  "For all the real-life applications you give that – game…" he smiled wider and shook his head again.

"Game?  More like harsh mistress," she joked.  He arched an eyebrow at her.  She shook her head, "Just kidding." 

After a moment he said, "My offer still stands."

"When I retire," she nodded but didn't make eye contact.  

Didn't she say that EX-O's didn't retire?  Did she just say something to appease him?  

"Mr. Luthor," Claire's voice on the speakerphone interrupted their conversation, "There is a call holding for you on line one."

Rhone smiled softly, silently telling him that she didn't mind if he took the call.

"Thank you," he said to the voice on the speakerphone, but let his eyes sit on the woman in front of him for a moment before moving to pick up the phone.  He wasn't doing a very good job of convincing her to make a career change.  …And I always assumed that I was persuasive, he thought.  But then, convincing in a situation like this normally ended in his bedroom…  He quickly picked up the phone, "Lex Luthor."

Lex began talking about shipping and Rhone wandered over to the door.  She joked with him about not actually doing any work, but she knew differently.  He was important here, and she had probably hindered him from doing a fair amount of work this week.  She didn't think that she could be so – accommodating to anyone that wanted so much of her time when she was at her real job.  …Ok, if they were the epitome of male perfection like Lex Luthor, she could find the time – as in give up meditation and eating find time.  

She cast a glance over her shoulder; he was looking at her.  What was he looking at?  Should she talk to him about last night?  She had been trying very hard to not think about it.  She had never really felt temptation – definitely not like that.  She wasn't exactly sure all parts of her agreed with the decision to pull away.  …He was probably just – she didn't know.  There must be some kind of platonic reason – it was her after all.  Didn't rich people do that thing where they fake kissed each other on the cheek?  Yeah…  

Maybe she should come and work for him; he looked so good in that mint green shirt…  She shook her head softly.  


	38. Chapter 38

Lex finished reading the spreadsheet on his computer screen.  Ok, so he wasn't reading it too intently – more like skimming it.  His mind was distracted; he was wondering where Rhone Chade had been hiding for well over two hours.  She left when he picked up the phone to talk to one of his shippers -- to his disappointment.  

He appreciated that she thought to give him time to do his job and give him his privacy, but he was feeling more and more like it was unnecessary.  He would much rather she stay.  Although he didn't know what she would do, just sitting around his office for hours on end.  He could ask her to sit on his couch so he could look up and she would just be there.  He felt heat on his cheeks and the tips of his ears.  

After a moment, he tapped the button on his telephone unit, "Claire."

"Yes, Mr. Luthor?" the female voice responded.

He paused for a moment, realizing that he had – in the course of a single week – become pathetic.  "Have you seen Ms. Chade?" he decided there was no suave "I really don't care, just wondering if you happen to know" way to ask.  

"After she left your office she went to her car, changed into – casual clothes, and then…" her voice trailed.

"And then what?" he didn't let his voice betray that he was feeling a slight – anxiety that she may have been called away on some dangerous mission and didn't even say goodbye.  He was proud of himself for his veneer of nonchalance.  

"I – I don't know if I should repeat it," the voice had a hint of laughter in it.  

He furrowed his brow and shook his head.  He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, "Try me."

"She said something about – throwing serious shit down.  And then she walked out the door," the words "serious shit" were said in a tone that conveyed that she was specifically quoting the subject of their conversation – not intentionally swearing at her employer.  

Lex smiled and quietly laughed to himself, resting his head on his left hand.  He composed himself, "Did she say where she was going to throw down this 'serious shit?" 

"Not specifically, Mr. Luthor," there was still a smile in her voice.

            As he stood he began to pull on his black blazer.  He shrugged his shoulders as he held on to his lapels to straighten it.  Before walking out, he picked up the Chinese food menu off of his desk.

            Her right foot moved to the tail, past the screws.  The picnic table was coming up really fast – good.  Her arms instinctively spread out, to help with balance.  She slammed her right foot down and pulled both her legs up underneath her.  The board came up with her feet and she pushed it down again, slamming it against the picnic table.  

The board still slid against the table.  When she reached its end, she pushed off hard.  The board spun twice and was then seemingly suspended beneath her feet.  She put each of her feet right above each of the two sets of screws and guided the board back to the ground.  -- Ok, the moment of truth.  She redistributed her weight and rolled away clean.  

She allowed some of her momentum to wear off before she bent her left leg and pushed down with her right, tail of the board grinding her to a stop.  

She kicked up the board and caught it.  She turned – God, help me.  It was him – living beauty -- just watching her.  She hadn't been listening; she let her guard down.  At least I landed it, she thought.  It was easy enough for her; she had been skating a pretty long time.  But she did fall.  She paused – she used to fall…  Bishop had said that skateboarding had helped her to shift her weight and it aided her in learning to fight faster.  It must have worked the other way around as well, fighting benefiting her skating.  

"Impressive," he said with a smirk as he sauntered over to her.  It didn't take him long to find her.  Her car was here, so she wouldn't have gone far.  There weren't too many places around here, besides this outdoor lunch area, that she could be.  

Rhone swung her board so it rested on her shoulder.  She gave him a smile; she really didn't know what to say.  Rhone Chade speechless?  

"Do all of your hobbies involve giving everyone around you a heart attack?" he handed her the Chinese food menu from his pocket.  

"Just old ladies and the faint of heart," she took the menu, smiling as she held his gaze.  It was a little too nice thinking that he was worried about her.

His eyes shot up at her, "Have I just been insulted?"  His smirk was still present.  

She grinned widely, "What are you and Claire having?"  

"We were looking at the meal on the second page," he pointed to the menu.

She went into her cargo pants and pulled out her phone to call for the take out food, "Mind if I share it with you?"

"Of course not, but I'll call," he reached into his coat pocket for his phone.

"I've got mine right here," she was already dialing with one hand, setting her skateboard down on a nearby picnic table with the other.  

He should have been faster.  Damn.  He watched her, listened to her order their food.  He wondered how she could be so accustomed to life with that artist's tube.  She did everything with it.  He had just seen her do some trick on her skateboard with it on – a trick that he could only compare to something that you would see a professional do.  Not that he knew anything at all about skateboarding.  

He picked up her skateboard with both hands; it was heavier than he thought it would be.  He turned it over and ran his thumb over the scuffmarks it had across the middle.  Maybe he should buy her a new one…

"When I get back, I'll give you a lesson," she pushed the hang up button on her phone and began to put it back in her pocket.

He quickly set the skateboard back on the picnic table, "I thought we could go together."

"I'm really not doing anything," she commented as she looked back at the promptly replaced skateboard.

"I'll drive," Lex pulled a pair of light blue tinted driving glasses from one of his coat pockets and put them on.

"I guess you could use the break.  You've been sitting behind that desk for what, two hours now?" she picked the skateboard up off of the picnic table.

"Two and a half," he corrected with mock seriousness as they began for the parking lot.  

"So, what are we doing here?" Rhone Chade looked at the pulsating mass of high school students around her.  There were certain things that she would never miss from her old life – high school definitely fell into that category.  It was such crap.  Was it just her, or was the crowd parting for Lex Luthor?  It happened for her, but normally she had to do something pretty – intense first.  Either that or the throng of people would have to know who she was – which, thankfully, wasn't very often.

"We have a few minutes before the takeout is done," Lex said as he walked beside her.  

 "And you needed to pull a Moses?" she gestured to the clear path in front of them.  Something brushed against her left arm.

"Clark has a free period," Lex opened a door to their right.  The sign on it read, The Torch.


	39. Chapter 39

Clark looked up from the computer he was working on.  Immediately, he smiled at his friend, "Hey, Lex."

Lex waited for Rhone to walk through the door he was holding open for her.  Nothing happened.  He turned around, but only saw the quickly thinning mass of students he was waiting to emerge from.  

"You Ok?" Clark was walking towards him.

"Yeah," Lex looked both ways down the hallway, "Rhone was with me."  If at all possible, Clark's smile became even wider.  Lex considered putting his driving glasses on to lessen the glare.

"I'm sure she's fine," Clark said with quite a bit of confidence, "I'd be worried about everyone else."  

Lex's eyes darted to Clark; surprised that he was referencing the bank robbery so lightly.  Finally, the corners of his mouth turned up, "I guess you're right."

"So, I haven't seen you around that much lately," Clark said, "You two must be seeing a lot of each other."

"Your subtleness is unsurpassed," Lex left the door ajar slightly when he walked through it.

"Just stating the obvious," Clark held up his hands in mock defense.

Lex was really hoping it wasn't that obvious.  "She is…" he truly did not know how to finish that sentence.

Clark continued to beam, "She's pretty cool.  I like her way better than any of the other girls I've seen you with -- especially Victoria."  

Lex rolled his eyes at the mention of his former – chess opponent.

Clark thought that he might have said too much, he didn't want to offend Lex.  "What I mean is…" he began to correct. 

"No, Clark," he held up a hand to silence his friend.  A faint smile was playing over Lex's face, "I agree with you.  She's – pretty cool."

"And since you are always giving me advice – telling me to go for it," Clark started, "You've told her she's pretty cool, right?"

Lex leaned against one of the desks, brushing a pile of papers.  He ran his hand over his head, "That's – complicated."

She kept her eye on the girl moving down the hallway.  The girl took a left, Rhone followed.  The girl didn't really seem to notice.  Rhone observed that they were venturing to a – lesser-used portion of the school.  It wasn't dilapidated by any means; it was just a little darker -- less people.

She should have said something to Lex, but what would she say?  Oh, excuse me, Walking Elegance, I just had a vision.  I'll be right back.  …Right.

But she had to follow her; she had never had a vision like that before.  Normally when she saw something, it was very brief and happened in a matter of seconds.  But there was no way that that would happen in seconds.  The vision was outside, and it was dark.  It was the middle of the day.  

And they were nowhere near a jungle.  Not to mention, the visions were random, not induced by touching something or someone.  And she wasn't even in the vision – that never happened.  Maybe she was finally losing it…  

Rhone stepped in front of the door the girl had gone into.  The sign on the door read, Agriculture Lab.  She paused and listened.  There was only one person in there, must be the girl.  She reached for the knob and opened the door quickly.

The brunette sat at a table and was setting up some type of equipment.  The room had a lot of glass and plants – a green house.  Yet, it was pretty evident that this lab was also a lesser-used, lesser-funded portion of the building.  Rhone thought that odd, considering they were in farm country.  

The girl turned around and looked at her unexpected company.

"I'm sorry," Rhone smiled widely, "I was on a tour of your building and I seem to have gotten separated from my escort."  

"You must be lost, there's no way that they would show this place off.  They were probably trying to take you to one of their jock monuments or to The Torch," the girl gave a wave to her surroundings.  There was a hint of bitterness in her voice when she mentioned the other areas of the school.

Rhone walked over to the table, "Rhone Chade."  She held out an ignored hand.

The girl was completely focused on the small plant sprouts before her.  "Adra Arden," she said absently.

Rhone slowly looked over the plants in the room.  They were quite large, thick with broad leaves – perfectly green.  …Totally perfect.

She remembered the vision; it wasn't that clear, but this wasn't right.  And in the vision Lex and Clark were – she didn't know, but she didn't like it.  Maybe that was why she was willing to put up with Adra's lack of manners, to make sure that it was just some kind of hallucination.  Maybe she really wasn't getting enough fluids; it was surprising how many problems could be traced back to that.  "Which ones are yours, Adra?" Rhone gestured to the unbelievably healthy plants.

"All of them," Adra still didn't look up.

Rhone walked over to some of the larger plants and began to reach for one, to examine it.  

"Don't touch that!" the girl jumped out of her chair.  

Rhone turned and looked at the girl that was swiftly coming at her.  She looked at her questioningly.

Adra composed herself, "I'm – running an experiment."

"Of course," Rhone turned when she heard a rustle in the plants behind her, but saw nothing.  

"Are you interested in joining Ag?" Adra asked.

Rhone couldn't tell if the girl was hoping she would or hoping she wouldn't.  "Do I look like a student?" Rhone asked.  Maybe I should invest in a push-up bra or something, Rhone thought.  – Ok, then you would have to start wearing bras period…  Forget it.  

Adra shrugged in a "maybe, maybe not" way.  

"I'm just visiting," Rhone clarified.  The way the girl was standing was uncomfortable and Rhone didn't like the vibe that she was getting.  "I hated high school too," Rhone crossed her arms over her chest.  

Adra gave a "Tss…" noise to show her agreement.  

Rhone wasn't getting anything else from the girl, from the situation at all.  Maybe she was off her game.  

"So, you weren't a jock or anything?" Adra gestured towards Rhone's toned arms.

"God, no," Rhone smiled.

"You ever get ragged on?" Adra asked.  She assumed that this Rhone Chade might have been an art geek, judging from the long artist's tube across her back.

"Just once, my freshman year, why?" Rhone looked at the girl.

"You're kind of pretty, I thought maybe you got out of some of the -- torment," Adra went and leaned against the table she had set her things out on.  "What happened?" Adra was curious as to why this woman was only tormented once in high school.

"What happened with what?" Rhone was shocked that someone called her pretty.  That never happened unless someone was drunk or they wanted something.

"Whoever ragged on you," Adra clarified.

"I beat him up," Rhone smiled faintly.

"Him?  That's awesome.  I wish I could do that," Adra laughed lightly.

"No, you don't," Rhone's smile faded and she shook her head.

"Yeah, I do," Adra said seriously.

"Do you have any idea how people look at you when you're the fifteen-year-old girl that beat up the varsity quarterback?" Rhone asked.  

"Do you have any idea how much more awesome this story becomes every time you speak?" Adra smiled again.

"One small step for man, one giant leap for nerd-kind," Rhone joked.  

"Did you get in a lot of trouble?" Adra asked, grinning widely.

"No," Rhone quickly added, "But I should have.  What I did was wrong."

"Yeah, right.  So, why didn't anything happen?" Adra probed.

"Getting your ass kicked by a hundred and ten pound girl isn't exactly something all-stars want people to find out about," Rhone pointed out.  Rhone decided that she wasn't getting any more information about her vision and she had just kind of disappeared on Lex.  "Listen, I should get back.  Nice talking to you," Rhone said, unsure if she was telling the truth or not.  

"Yeah," Adra watched the other girl walk out the door.


	40. Chapter 40

Rhone was slowly retracing her path, back to the door that she had vanished in front of.  She looked at the walls; awards, pictures, and other items assured passersby that the school had sufficient spirit.  What a crock.  

…How in the hell did I beat up Eric Simms, all-star quarterback in high school?  Rhone wondered to herself.  I knew nothing of combat then – only what Dungeons and Dragons had to teach; and let's face it, real fighting isn't exactly turn based.  

She never felt guilty about it; he started it and he fought back – at least, he tried.  She couldn't stop the small smirk that crossed her lips when she thought about it.  …The only thing that was permanently wounded was his pride.  …She really needed to talk to Sensei.  Perhaps more than a call was in order now – that would be difficult.

Her thoughts shifted to the girl that she had just left.  Adra Arden.  Rhone didn't know what to make of this.  The girl managed to cause her to have a false vision – a vision that Rhone didn't care for.  She could tell by looking at her that Adra was quite – angry, reclusive. The entire experience in that green house displeased Rhone on the whole, but for no obvious reason.  

She approached the door to The Torch, hearing a few of voices – three of them.  None of them were Lex's, but she knew he was in there.  The three voices were discussing the layout, obviously for their little paper.  

The door was ajar, so she decided that she could just walk in.  She opened the door, but stood outside of it.  Everyone in the room looked to see her gazing down the hallway.  Footsteps were approaching from behind her – running.

At the sight of Rhone Chade, Chloe's eyes lit up.  Just in time for a few questions.  …What is she looking at?

Pete and Clark saw Chloe's eyes go wide.  They knew that that could only mean one thing.  Pete had covered for Rhone in the midst of a bank robbery, but he doubted his ability to keep a story-hungry Chloe away from her.  

Clark's eyes went to Lex, who was standing in front of The Wall of Weird.  The corner of his friend's mouth curled up at the sight of the woman in the door.  He smiled a thoughtful smile as he looked at his friend.  

Lex felt a pair of eyes on him.  He looked away from Rhone Chade to Clark.  The boy had a knowing closed mouth smile etched into his face.  He knew Clark was going to make him talk about Rhone.  He found it fortunate that Chloe and Pete had made an entrance shortly after he noticed that Rhone was missing.  It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to Clark about her; he just didn't want her excellent ears to hear the conversation.  

A figure rounded a corner, Adra Arden.  She slowed to a jog as she approached Rhone and stopped a few feet from her.  Rhone looked at the girl with a quirked eyebrow.

"I have to know," Adra said as though that was supposed to make sense.

"Know what?" Rhone asked quietly, but she knew those in the room would hear them.  

"What did he do?" Adra clarified.

"Who?" Rhone was playing dumb.

"The quarterback," Adra breathed heavily.

Rhone cast a glance into the office of The Torch; all eyes had fallen on her and the half of Adra that they could see.  Rhone turned back to Adra and shut the door once more.  

Everyone in the office looked at one another, not really knowing what to make of the situation.  

Rhone continued to speak quietly, in attempt to maintain the privacy of the conversation.  "To make a long story short," she began, "He said something to my best friend, I said something to him, he got pissed, he grabbed me, I gave him a very slight concussion."  Among other things, she kept that to herself.  Despite all the strides of women's liberation, she had something against men that roughed up women -- as though how hard they grab your arm makes them right.

Rhone smiled politely as she grabbed the door and began to open it again, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have take-out to pick up in a few minutes."

Adra nodded with a very faint smile.  She looked at the door they were standing in front of for a prolonged moment.  The smile faded, she turned on her heels, and began walking the way she had come.  

Rhone watched Adra for a moment; hand on the doorknob.  What was her problem with the girl?  She hadn't done anything wrong – the story just lent itself to Adra's situation.  Still…

The door pushed against Rhone's hand.  Chloe peeked out from the other side of the door.  Rhone had heard her walk to the door, but was transfixed on Adra.  

"Are you going to come in or are you going to have conversations with all of the school hermits out here?" The blond grinned widely.

Rhone pulled the door open the rest of the way and smiled directly at Chloe as she walked by, "Don't make me choose."

Chloe laughed lightly as she watched Rhone walk past her and into the office.  

Lex watched her glide into the room.  It was as though time stopped around her and she was moving in slow motion.  Her left hand was on her hip and her right hung loosely at her side.  

"Hey, Rhone," Clark smiled widely as he watched Lex smirk at the target of his greeting.  

"Clark," Rhone smiled back.  She noticed that he hadn't made eye contact with her; he was just smiling at Lex.  What the hell?  She refocused her attention, "And Pete, I owe you a thank you."

Pete smiled, but furrowed his brow, "For?"

She put a hand on Pete's shoulder.  "Your quick thinking at the bank," she reminded him, "Everyone that was there is indebted to your cool headedness."  She shouldn't bring up the situation; it had been buried.  However, she knew that her companions were not like so many others, and would not contribute what they saw to post traumatic stress.

Pete looked at the ground.  He wasn't used people saying things like that to him; it was always Clark that played hero.  He was just Clark's friend.  

Lex stared at the hand Rhone had on Pete's shoulder and set his jaw.  Was there something wrong with him?  He ran his hand over his smooth head – well, besides that.  She wasn't like that, was she?  No, she was too good for that.  He remembered the one time that she had touched him.  His wrist and neck, where she had touched him, tingled.  

Clark and Chloe were taken aback at the ease with which she talked about the situation two days ago.  The steps she had taken to cover it up would imply that she would try to convince everyone that it didn't happen.

Chloe shook her head, "And speaking of that – incident, do you have time to answer a few questions?"

Lex looked sharply at Chloe; the girl could be quite tenacious when she wanted to be.

"Chloe," Clark's eyes were warning.  He knew this was coming.

"I'm afraid I don't follow," Rhone said with little emotion.

"I have a few questions," Chloe ignored a pointed look from the three males in the room.  

"I believe that The Smallville Ledger gave quite a bit of attention to that subject in yesterday's edition," Rhone said matter-of-factly.

"It seems they fell victim to some – inconsistencies," Chloe crossed her arms over her chest.

"Sounds like they have a problem," Rhone remained innocent.

"I was actually interested in a more human side of the story – you," Chloe moved to her computer.

"Like an interview?" Rhone gave her a "what the hell are you talking about" look and tone.  

"Exactly," Chloe said in an excited voice.

"No," Rhone said plainly.

All hint of enthusiasm drained from Chloe's face.  She had never just been shot down like that.  Usually people at least humored her and made excuses.  "Why not?" Chloe asked.

Lex turned back to The Wall of Weird to hide his smirk.  Chloe pretended to be mature and professional when it came to reporting, but someone unmistakably says no to an interview and she was acting like a disappointed ten year old.  He often forgot about the difference in age between himself and Clark.  In this case, he was reminded of his difference in age with Clark's friends.  

"I'm pretty boring," Rhone said.

Lex smiled even wider at The Wall.  He remembered her saying something very similar to him, but he knew that she was selling herself short – far short.  He wondered if Rhone believed it – that she was just some girl.  He hoped not -- if only he could find the words to tell her how amazing she really was.  The nerve to tell her…

"I think the four bank robbers that spent time in the hospital because of you, would say differently," Chloe observed.

Lex began to walk away from The Wall, towards Rhone.  That was enough.  Thankfully, she had removed her hand from Pete Ross' shoulder.  

"So what does the high school paper want to know?  My favorite color is green, and my favorite book is…" she was cut off.

Green, Lex committed that to long-term memory.  

"That isn't the kind of award winning journalism I was thinking about," Chloe said.

"To the contrary, Chloe, I would love to know," Lex smiled and fixed his gaze Rhone.

Clark smiled widely again as he watched his best friend.  

Lex looked up to see Clark grinning like an idiot.  At least everyone else in the room was assuming this actions and words were just part of his trademark suave arrogance.  Damn Clark.  That's what you get for having friends – Ok, so it was worth it.  "We have take-out to pick up," he said to Clark with a smirk.

"I'll walk you out," Clark gestured to the door.

"What about my interview?" Chloe asked to the three figures that were shuffling toward the door.

"You should have listened about her favorite book.  …Maybe you should just let it go," Pete suggested.  Chloe just looked at him.  He should have known better than to say anything.  He hoped Clark would return soon and agree with him, so he would no longer be on the receiving end of the dirty look Chloe's face had distorted into.  


	41. Chapter 41

Clark closed the door behind him before beginning down the hall.  "So, Rhone, how much longer are you in Smallville?" Clark asked.  

Lex looked at Rhone; he wanted to know an exact answer for this.

"I checked out of my hotel room this morning – I'm technically supposed to be gone right now," Rhone responded.

"My parents said that you could come over for dinner anytime you want, or just come over," Clark said.

"Well, tell them that I just might take them up on that," Rhone smiled knowingly at Clark.  She knew, just as Clark did, that the two of them had things in common that few others could even hope to understand.  Jonathon and Martha Kent knew that it was important for their son to have someone to share those things with.  

Lex narrowed his eyes for a moment.  What was that all about?  Dinner?  Just come over?  Ok, this is Clark and he knows that you are – whatever you are for her.  Besides, he was forgetting about the Lana variable.  …What was his problem?

After a moment, Rhone spoke again, "Clark, that girl I was talking to…"

"Adra Arden, do you know her?" he asked.

"Not exactly," Rhone said, "But we talked for a moment.  Are you friends with her?"

"Not really.  I don't really know her – no one really does," Clark said, not really knowing where this line of questioning was going.

"Good.  Stay away from her -- both of you," Rhone said, looking forward.

Lex was brushing the conversation off as small talk, but he quickly cast a look at Rhone.  That was – sudden.  He was definitely going to talk to her about this.

"Why?" Clark laughed lightly.  

"I have a bad feeling about her," Rhone looked directly at Clark, trying to silently communicate things that it was impossible to.  

Clark looked at her.  After a brief moment, a realization came over him.  He didn't really understand her precognition.  At least, he thought that was what she was trying to tell him.  "Ok," was all he could think to say.

Was Clark not assuming the best about someone that he didn't even know?  Something was going on, on a different level than Lex knew about.  And he didn't care for it.  Did the altruistic have some kind of bad person radar that he didn't know about?  No, that's just ridiculous.  

Lex opened the front door of the school and allowed a hesitant Rhone to walk through, followed by Clark.  He stepped outside, "I'll see you tomorrow, Clark."  

Clark knew Lex was referring to the produce delivery; he smiled.  

"Clark, can I talk to you for a minute?" Rhone said.

"Sure," Clark replied.

"I'll go get the car," Lex said nonchalantly, but would have preferred to stay and hear what was said.

When Lex was out of earshot, Rhone looked at Clark seriously.  "If you ever really need me, you have my cell phone number," she began.  Clark nodded.  "If I don't answer, sometimes I get – busy," she said, "Call 555-9999."  Clark nodded again.  "When they pick up, it might seem a little odd, but just tell the truth and you'll be fine," she smiled, "Or if you just need an ear or something."  Clark's smile returned.  

She looked at Lex for a moment as he unlocked the door of his Mercedes.  Her expression turned thoughtful.  When Lex looked at her, she looked back.  Clark's smile was so wide; she thought she had looked into halogen headlights.  "And I mean what I said about Adra," she said.

"I don't understand…" he began.

"I -- don't either, Clark," she shook her head and closed her eyes for a moment.

Lex's car was approaching them.  She held out a hand and Clark shook it.  She brought her left hand around to his shoulder and they pulled each other into a partial hug – the kind tough guys give to each other.  She really did feel a – kinship with the boy.  "Take care of yourself," she said into his ear, "Take care of Lex for me."

"Ok," he laughed lightly as they parted.  

The Mercedes stopped in front of them.  "I'll see you around," she said vaguely as she made her way around to the passenger side.  Clark gave a smile and a wave.  She opened the passenger side door, but before she got in said, "Remember what I said about – everything."

Lex quickly took a sharp turn.  He looked at the woman next to him; she didn't seem to notice.  She hadn't even blinked the whole time she was in the car with him.  That was – unheard of.  Even Clark, the "luckiest guy he knew," would jump occasionally or hold on to the handle on the door.    

"Just so I know, why are Clark and I staying away from that girl -- Adra?" he probed.

It really sounds stupid when you have to explain it.  "I judge people and their motivations for a living, Mr. Luthor, and I get a bad feeling about her," she said.  

"Women's intuition?" he quoted her explanation of her ability to find the underground fighting ring in Metropolis.  

"Actually, I prefer to think of it as more of a Spider-sense," she joked, "Women's intuition sounds so – girly."

"It is my gift, it is my curse," he quoted with a smile.

You have no idea.  "I often wonder how normal men can live without it," she looked out the passenger side window.  I don't believe I let that slip, she thought.  Where did it come from?  

"Normal men?" he smiled as he pulled into a parking space.

"Civilians," she covered easily as she opened her door.

Rhone Chade noticed that she and Lex Luthor turned a few heads on their short walk to the Chinese food restaurant.  She guessed that if there were a throng of people, it would have parted for Lex – much like at the high school.  

Rhone thought the restaurant odd.  It was on the corner of the block, not looking the least bit authentic.  It looked more like old commercial space that had had a slight oriental face-lift.  If you could call painting a dragon on the front door and a light up sign a face-lift.  A lot of the things in this town looked that way, as though they really weren't meant to do the tasks they were assigned – renovated.  

"Back at The Torch," he started, "You never finished."

"Finished what?" she asked as they reached the door of the restaurant.  

"You said your favorite color is green, but you never said what your favorite book is," he grabbed the glass door that led inside and pulled it open, standing mostly behind it.  

"Promise not to laugh?" she eyed him suspiciously.  

"I give you my word," he smirked.  

They both turned their heads at the sound of muffled shouting. 

Lex thought it was on the next block and continued to wait for Rhone to answer as well as for her walk through the door he was politely holding open for her.  

Rhone knew it was around the corner and down the block -- someone was coming this way.  She knew there were two others coming this way as well, but behind the first.

When she didn't respond or look at him, he laughed softly and said, "I'm a man of my word."

She knew he would come this way, instead of crossing the street.  There were a lot of cars around; it would be dangerous to just run out into traffic.  If a car hit him, he would be caught.  

Besides, she had – special knowledge that he would come this way.  Not that she was too keen on trusting her premonitions at the moment.  

Lex saw a man clutching something run around the corner and come at them.  He wasn't going to hit them; he was just in a hurry and would hit anything he ran into pretty hard.  "Rhone," Lex said quietly to warn her.

The man was about to pass them.  Rhone planted her feet, grabbed the doorframe with her left hand, and firmly extended her right arm.  

The sternum of the running man hit the extended arm with a loud, "Ugh."  His feet kept going, but his upper half was abruptly stopped.  His back made hard and swift contact with the ground.  Another deep, "Ugh," was heard.  He lay still, having the wind knocked out of him.  

Lex just looked at his companion, whatever happened to apathy?  Aren't there statistics about how people just watch crimes happen, considering it someone else's problem?  Between Rhone and Clark, all injustice in Smallville could be eradicated in a matter of weeks.  

Rhone relaxed her position and bent down over the man.  She grabbed what he was holding, a brown purse, in her left hand.  He didn't seem to notice.  Then she grabbed his collar with her right hand and pulled him roughly to his feet.  He noticed.  "What the hell is your problem?" he gasped.

She held firmly onto his collar and with gritted teeth said, "This is my problem."  She held the purse in his face.  

"What…?" he thoughts were mirroring Lex's regarding the obvious overestimation of public apathy.  

"It doesn't even match your shoes," Rhone snarled as cast a glance down at the man's white sneakers.  

Lex's look of disbelief was replaced by his free hand rubbing his eyes and continuing over his head.  It vaguely occurred to him that he was still holding the door open.

Two police officers rounded the corner and stopped abruptly when they realized their perpetrator had already been apprehended.  "We can take it from here, Ma'am," the first one said.  Then he took a good look at Rhone and took a step backwards.

Ma'am?  Well, it was a start.  She shoved the purse at the officer that spoke.  Then she turned her attention back to the man held firmly in her hand, "There, now doesn't that look better?"  She gestured towards the officer's shoes -- brown.

The eyes of the officer that hadn't spoken became wide.  "Is she the one…?" he asked his partner.

The first officer just nodded, never taking his eyes off the woman.

"Holy shit," the other said under his breath, staring at her as well.  

The purse-snatcher was looking back and forth, between Rhone and the two police officers.  

"Are you two going to do something, or do I have to police this whole town myself?" she was glaring at the two officers.  She was growing weary of this.  However, the one holding the purse looked slightly amusing.  

Both of them jumped and moved quickly to handcuff the man Rhone was holding.  "Sorry," they both said in unison, not looking at her.

"Sorry…?" Rhone repeated, looking at them as though they were supposed to finish her statement.

The one with the purse blinked and instantly added, "Sir -- Sorry, Sir."  The Chief had told him, as well as most of the men that had been on the force for sometime, specifically what this woman had said – and done to him.  What she could do…

She turned and waved her hand dismissively as she walked through the door.  She didn't feel like getting into a long-winded speech about respecting yourself and the job.  

Lex watched the officers and the thief for a long moment – they have to call her Sir?  The corners of his mouth turned upwards…  He realized that Rhone was already talking to the woman behind the counter, picking up their lunch.  Shit.

He walked quickly through the door and towards them.  "I've got it," he said, reaching for his wallet.  Unfortunately, Rhone was receiving her change when he walked up to the counter.  Damn it.  

All she did for him, how nice she was to him, the way that she made him feel, and he couldn't even buy her lunch.  …Damn it.

"Thanks," Rhone smiled at the woman, dropping some money into the tip jar with one hand and absently reaching to pick up the food bag with the other.

Lex quickly snatched the bag, feeling mildly frustrated at his inability to be as gallant as he wanted to be.  

Rhone cast a glance at him, noting the agitated way that he was holding himself.  …Maybe she should have just let the purse-snatcher go.  Why did she have to act like that?  Couldn't she just let it go?  No.  Damn it.  

He was probably embarrassed, stopping that thief and the way she treated those officers.  He had an image to maintain.  …Damn it.


	42. Chapter 42

Claire had a few plates and forks from the Plant cafeteria on her desk – this was the first time that anything of this nature had happened in this office.  She found it odd that she knew Rhone Chade would have water, but had no idea what the man she worked for would have.  He never had her get coffee or, well, anything.  She didn't know how he took his coffee, and she was his secretary – administrative assistant.  

She had a Coke and a Sprite, hopefully covering as many potential possibilities as she could with a mere two bottles – she would just take the one that he didn't pick up.  …I must have stood in front of that vending machine for ten minutes; she shook her head softly.

She had been sitting across from him for a few minutes now.  They were in the lesser-used couch section of Lex's office.  They had been pretty quiet since they left the restaurant, a few thank yous from Rhone when he did something polite for her, like opening the car door.  She wondered if Claire noticed and that was why she opted to stay at her desk to do some filing.

"I'm sorry that I embarrassed you, Mr. Luthor," she broke the silence.  Had she ever apologized for anything like that before?  

He set his bottle of Sprite down on the low table in front of him with a furrowed brow -- he didn't drink soft drinks but once and a while.  "It's alright," embarrassed wasn't exactly how he would describe it – more like disappointed that he couldn't…  Couldn't what?  Buy her things to make her like him?  It worked so well on, everyone else – almost everyone else.  And that was all he knew how to do…    

"No, you live in this town.  I've never had to be – image conscious before," she admitted.

"I really don't care what the girl at the Chinese take out place thinks of me," he swirled some of the food on his plate.  I care about what you think, he thought to himself.

Rhone squinted for a moment.  "Wait," she said after a moment, "You were upset because I paid?"  She pointed to herself and then to the plate of food she was holding.  

"I wasn't upset…" he began.

She laughed, "This isn't the 1950's you know."

"I'm well aware of the current decade," he pointed out.

"I thought I upset you because – I don't know – I made a public spectacle of myself," she was shaking her head with a vague smile.

"If you were anyone else, I would say that the things you do – those chances you take – are," he didn't really know how to say it, "Well, careless.  …The bank, the guy that stole the purse…"

She looked at the floor and nodded; he was right.  It wasn't her job to bring in common thieves.  But, she had to…

"But, you're like Clark," he added, "You can't help it."  

"Is that a compliment?" she shook her head with a faint grin.  

Lex smiled widely and exhaled loudly in a quasi laugh, "I admire Clark -- so, yes."  

In a way, she admired Clark too.  From what she had read and the things Clark and his parents had told her, he did great things, saved people, and never had to – eliminate anyone.  …Clark was definitely worthy of admiration.  "I'm way more masculine than Clark," she joked under her breath.  

He chuckled.  …Did she really think that?  He watched as she leaned forward and began to gather the dirty dishes from their take out food.  He leaned over and helped her.  Maybe she was a little masculine, but he thought of it as more self-reliant – a much more attractive quality than masculine.  

She picked up their dishes and stood.  He quickly stood and reached for the plates, realizing that no one would be coming to clear them away.  He could always tell Claire to do it…

"I've got it," Rhone turned to the door with a smile.

"I'll help you," Lex picking up the two empty bottles on the table and turning to open the door for her.  

"I think that I can manage," she joked as she walked through the door.

She didn't hesitate this time, he noticed.  It felt so right to do that for her and to have her just glide through it while she smiled at him.  It was like they were…

"I can't allow that.  You're a guest of Luthor Corp., and we treat our guests with the respect they deserve," he said dismissively, his usual smirk gracing his pale face.

Rhone pictured a young Lex sitting in front of a huge television, watching a Luthor Corp. orientation video instead of Sesame Street.  She smiled at him.  However, when she walked through the door, the image caused a dull ache in her heart that made her furrow her brow and shake her head softly.  The image probably wasn't that far from the truth.  

Claire was on the phone, typing on the computer keyboard before her.  She heard her boss's door open, but didn't turn from the monitor.  She cast a glance at Rhone when she heard the empty plate at the corner of her desk clank against two others.  Claire smiled as the girl cleared her plate and mouthed, "Thank you."  

Lex followed Rhone out the door, presumably to the cafeteria to discard the dishes.  Claire vaguely wondered at the level of intimacy that Rhone and Lex had shared, but felt guilty about wondering – for a minute, anyway.


	43. Chapter 43

They had made a few turns since the floor beneath their feet had turned from plush carpet to the pale grey tile of the small area between the office and the plant itself.  Rhone knew where they were, she usually did.  

Lex knew where he was, kind of.  He had been here a few times, not that he made a habit of it or anything.  He didn't exactly come to the cafeteria for lunch.  A smile tugged at his lips when he imagined himself standing in line, picking up a green Jell-O square and a stale ham sandwich, setting his tray down at one of the large tables, completely clearing the table he sat at of all other employees in about two minutes…  It was definitely better that he normally went out to lunch.

"You've never been here before, have you?" Rhone looked at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled.

"Of course I have," then added softly, "All the time."  He looked at her and smiled.

"I'm surprised Gabe didn't make you come down here on the tour," she added, "He probably doesn't have as many clever puns to go with the cafeteria though."

Lex sighed loudly at the mention of Gabe Sullivan's intolerable manure jokes – if that is what you could call them.  "I – never want to find out," he said pointedly.

She laughed softly as they entered the cafeteria.  There were rows of tables with chairs neatly pushed in, the lunch rush obviously over.  An older woman in a hair net was wiping off one of the tables.  Rhone raised a hand in greeting, "Hey, Ruth."

The woman looked up, "Hi, Rh…"  Her eyes got slightly wide when she saw who else was with Rhone.  She shook her head quickly, "Hi, Rhone – Mr. Luthor."

Normally, he would have told her to call him Lex.  However, he was using the opportunity to check to see if the woman in the hair net was wearing a name tag – she wasn't.  He offered her a small smile and a nod.  

"All the time?" Rhone had an exaggerated look of questioning on her face.

"She must be new," Lex said dismissively and looked ahead as they walked toward the garbage cans and the window to drop off the dishes.

"She's up for retirement in less than six months -- after about twenty years of manning Luthor Corp.'s meatloaf pan," she placed the dishes she on the conveyer belt that would take them to be washed.  She looked up at him and smiled.

Damn it.  Was there anything he could do to avoid looking like some aloof isolated billionaire?  Probably not, that description of him had – elements of truth.  Okay, so it only had a few exceptions.  

Lex tossed the bottles he was holding into a can marked "Plastic."  He looked at her, "Are you on a first name basis with everyone in town?"

She made a point of looking at him for a moment, and then smiled, "Not everyone – Mr. Luthor."  She turned and began walking out of the cafeteria, giving one more wave to Ruth.

He was at her side, thinking.  He never did like that she called him by his last name.  However, when it came to his attention that he was the only one she called by last name, he liked it less – if possible.  It made him feel as though that she was deliberately detaching herself from him – and he was the only one she felt she needed distancing from.  

…In so many words, people had told him that everything he touched went to hell.  Maybe her wisdom had told her that, so she had the foresight to avoid getting too personal with him and didn't have to find out the hard way – the way so many others had.  …Maybe it was her experience.  Did it even matter?  In either case, it meant the same thing.  Did that make him – sad?  Would that stop him?  Stop him from what?  He knew they were impossible.  …Did I just sign off something as impossible?  I'm Lex Luthor, he reminded himself.  He looked at the woman walking beside him.

She looked at him; he was looking at her.  She smiled.

He returned her smile.  I'm Lex Luthor and nothing is impossible, he reassured himself.  …Now all he had to do was convince her that he was – that they were...  …I really have become pathetic.  He ran his hand over his scalp.  …And if she keeps smiling like that, I'm not going to care.  He was quite pleased that his father was in Metropolis and could not see this -- emotional weakness.  

He was thinking about something – hard.  "What are you thinking about so intently?" she laughed lightly.

God, I've become Clark.  He blinked and came back to reality, "I was just wondering if you like sushi, it's what we're having for dinner."

For some reason, she had a difficult time believing that that was what required most of his higher brain function for at least four minutes.  "Actually, I was going to start back to Metropolis," she looked straight ahead.  She really didn't want to go.  A few days ago she had said that he was pretty much only good for comics and meals – it was a lie even then.  Should she tell him that?  Certainly, he knew.  …Hopefully, she wasn't always so – transparent.  

"Before dinner?" he asked casually.  He glanced down briefly to see if she had quickly punched him in the chest without his knowledge – no.  

"Well, after lunch," she said.  

That meant right now – now.  "I already told Kevin that he would be preparing dinner for two," he said as though now she had an obligation.  He gave her his best innocent smile.  

She looked at him matter-of-factly, "I've spent some time in your kitchen – probably more than you have.  And I know for a fact that Kevin prepares enough for at least six every night – regardless if I am there or not."  

So, she was right.  He should have told his father to go to hell the night he called to discuss the fall numbers.  …She would have talked to Kevin anyway, extrapolating every possible tidbit of information about his dining habits and the food that was prepared in the mansion.  "Don't you have anything better to investigate?" he asked with a smile.

Better than you?  Nope, not even close.  "Investigating is not the same thing as talking," she pointed out with a wry smile.  

They stepped into the open area before Lex's office.  Claire looked up from her paperwork and smiled.  

Rhone stepped over to her desk, "Listen, it was great to know you."  Rhone held out her hand.

Claire nodded and took her hand to shake it.  She smiled, "You too, Honey."  She stole a glance at her employer, he looked – she didn't know.  He didn't have his normal air about him.  "You can come and visit us here, you know," she said as though it were common knowledge.  She didn't know the young woman would be leaving so soon, although the other auditors did leave hours ago.   

"Do you have some invoices that need auditing, Claire?" Rhone joked with her hands in front of her like she was looking for the non-existent invoices on the desk that was between them.

"No," she chuckled.  "I like having you around here," she emphasized the word "I."  Maybe if her employer heard her say it, he might concur.  

"I bet you get away with a lot more shit," Rhone put her hand up like she was blocking Lex's hearing of what they were saying.

Claire nodded in a "Well, yeah, kind of" way.  

"Don't worry.  You can do whatever you want.  If he fires you, I'll kick his ass," Rhone gestured to Lex.  

Lex raised his eyebrows, "I wouldn't dream of it."

"I'll remember you said that," Claire pointed at Lex and smiled.

"See you later," Rhone gave a half wave to Claire.  

Claire watched Lex and Rhone walk together.  They were right together – natural.  Lex's hand raised slightly and vaguely hovered over the small of Rhone's back.  His fingers flexed and his hand returned to his side.  

Claire tilted her head to the side and brought her hand to her chin as she watched.  She saw Rhone's hand tilt up to Lex's, like she was going to take it.  Take it, Claire urged silently.  There was a hesitation before it lowered back to the girl's thigh.  

Claire covered her eyes and shook her head.  She peaked through her hands to see Lex open the door and Rhone glide through.  They looked at one another and smiled.  It was one of those shared smiles that said there was so much not said, that should be said.  …It was better than nothing.  


	44. Chapter 44

"So you're really leaving despite there being a free dinner involved?" he said coyly.  

"If I don't get back…" her voice trailed off.  He looked at her imploringly.  "I know what happens when you leave twenty-eight males with little or no direction alone," a thought occurred to her, "And the new guy."  She said it as though it explained everything.  She unlocked her car, but leaned against it.

"You are going to have to tell me," Lex said.

"I should get back to train the new guy," Rhone clarified.

"About the – twenty-eight males," Lex hadn't thought of it that way before.  She lived with them.  

"Guys do things to each other," Rhone tried to explain.  From the way Lex was looking at her, he didn't understand.  He had probably never "hung out" with a group of guys or anyone for that matter.  "Awol is probably sodamizing the new guy with a coat rack or something," she tried to explain as she rubbed her eyes, anticipating future frustration.

Lex was looking at her with a look that said he was still processing what she just said, but there was no processing it.  "They're really not that bad," she added quickly.  "But they have done some – messed up things to one another," she shook her head.  Then she smiled.  He was still looking at her with that look on his face.  "They're stronger that way – a part of something," she continued.

Clark was his first real friend, so Lex never got any of that "goofing off" that other guys knew.  When he was at Excelsior Prep, he had been in the dormitory.  But he was never a normal student.  He really didn't have to see other students if he didn't want to.  Most of the time; he chose against it.  

However, there were some nights when he would be reading in his room and he would hear a reoccurring series of events that might explain what Rhone was trying to say.  It would be dead silent, then a loud noise, then one boisterous voice that expressed a profanity, then a bunch of guys laughing, then that one voice saying something, then a lot more laughter.  It kept him up on more than one occasion.  Lex made a note to himself to never allow another male to sleep near him without taking adequate precautions.  "Through friendship," Lex ventured.

"We're not supposed to have friends," she repeated a phrase she had heard so many times.

He raised his eyebrows at her.  She had called him her friend more than once.

She turned and opened her car door.  She put her artist's tube in the back seat and looked over her shoulder at him, "No one tells me what to do."  

Lex smiled sadly.  She was really leaving.  He found his voice and it was surprisingly casual, "How can I reach you in Metropolis?"  Was he asking for her phone number?  Why not?  …She gave it to Clark.  If the farm boy wasn't betrothed to Lana Lang, that might worry him.  And the hug outside of the high school was probably one of the most platonic that he had ever seen – not that he didn't envy the tactile contact.  Envy?  What, a Luthor envy?  …Had he ever had to ask for a phone number?  When he went out, he got so many cards and numbers that…

She turned to him, standing inside of her car door.  Her eyes were honest and – sad.  "You can't," she said softly.  

He swallowed.  What was with women and leaving him?  He understood that her job would lead to certain limitations, but he couldn't get a hold of her at all?  The despondency he had been feeling was fermenting into resentment.  

"I'll contact you," she could see animosity beginning to etch itself onto his attractive face.  

He decided to walk away before he said something that he didn't mean -- or before he could say something that would betray his feelings.  With a dismissive sigh he said, "For someone that doesn't let anyone tell them what to do…"  He let the meaning of his remark hang in the air.  

"Mr. Luthor…" she began.

That was it.  "Ms. Chade," he said in the same business tone that she had used when she said her fake good-bye in his office earlier that day.  He turned on his heels and headed back to his office.  

She watched him get halfway to the door.  She didn't know what she was feeling, but she didn't like it.  It was the feeling she got when she let someone down – something she made a point to not do.  What was his problem?  What the…?  …He had a point.  She didn't know what to do.  Should she follow him and…?  And what?  Tell him that you…  No.  Not an option.  

She slid into her car and started the engine.  

Claire watched her employer open the door and steal a glance to the parking lot.  His demeanor was different.  He had a look on his face that told her to keep her eyes glued to her computer monitor and definitely not to speak.  What happened in less than five minutes?  He walked swiftly past her and shut his office door firmly behind him.  

Lex sat behind the desk of his home office, lack of sunlight on the walls telling him it was dusk.  He had been in no hurry to get home this evening.  The minute he entered his office at The Plant he began to feel a sickening feeling in his stomach, later recognized as guilt.  Then a dull pain behind his eyes, immediately recognized as the aftereffects of juvenile stupidity.  …And no way to apologize.  Shit.

Why did he have to have this – he didn't know.  As little as he wanted to admit it, it was probably an abandonment issue.  …Mom…  She said that she would contact him.  Why wasn't that good enough?  Why did he have to…?  

He stood and absently went to the tumbler of brandy that stood in the corner of the room.  He poured the dark brown liquid slowly into the glass, trying to think of a way to contact her and then quickly trying to forget that he cared.  He swirled his glass briefly as he walked back to his desk.  

He sat and leaned his elbows on his knees, cradling the glass in his hands.  He lowered his head and closed his eyes.  

He ventured a look up at the door.  He remembered when she walked though it for the first time.  She was nice looking, strong…  She accused him of being a terrorist.  He smiled and laughed silently.  

His eyes began to sting and he closed them again.  He finally leaned back and brought the glass to his lips.  As he rolled the liquid around in his mouth, something struck him as odd.  He opened his left eye and brought the glass up to eye level.  …When was the last time he had a drink?  He begrudgingly opened his right eye, only to furrow his brow.  …He didn't drink the whole time that she was here.  Well, after she came back from Hong Kong – almost a week ago.  …Shit.

Rhone turned the key toward her.  The soft purr of the engine ceased and she leaned her head against the head rest.  She allowed herself a loud sigh.  She had gone for a long drive along the Metropolis expressway system once she reached the city.  She wasn't ready to go home.  

Unfortunately, she was no closer to figuring out what happened then when she left the parking lot of Plant Number Three.  Maybe he really couldn't handle the information that she had given him.  …It was just as well, she could foresee him making her weak.  It didn't take a premonition to figure that out.  

Someone was coming.  Griffin.  She quickly composed herself and opened the door.  

"I didn't expect you back so soon," Griffin covered the distance to her car.

"The audit ended today, Griffin," she said stoically.

"I know, but I figured you would be hanging out with Lex…" he began.

She turned and reached into her car to pull out the few things that she had taken with her.  "Our alliance has concluded," she said stoically.

He watched her immediately place her artist's tube on her back.  Right, he closed his eyes and shook his head.  "What happened?" he asked.  He could tell that she was upset.  Not that she would ever admit it.  Hell, most people could never tell that she was.

"He realized the reality of the situation," she said in a voice that forced flatness.  He realized the reality of me, she thought sadly to herself.

The last time he heard, things were going great – all things considered.  "Rhone," he began.

"Where's the new guy?" she had her duffle bag and laptop over her left and right shoulders, respectively. 

"Rhone," he began again.

She began to walk toward the door with wide strides, "Are you going to tell me where he is, or do I have to scour the whole complex?"  

Her voice had an edge to it that said she wasn't in the mood talk.  Had she been – hurt?  It was something that Griffin didn't fully comprehend.  He said, "I brought him in this morning.  He finished the basic tour.  I knew you would want him to begin on a physical regiment…"  

"Where is he?" her voice elevated slightly.  

"He's in the shower," he said quietly.  Then added, even more softly, "Ex."

She stopped suddenly and turned to face him, "Griff…"

He put his hands on her shoulders, rubbing her arms affectionately.  He didn't speak, only looked at her imploringly.  

She looked away.  She hated it when he gave her the big brother treatment – at least in an instance like this.  "Can we talk about it later?" she sighed.  He was her best friend – unofficially – and she knew that he was just trying to help.  Besides, this wasn't the most private place on base – the middle of the garage.  

"Sure, Rhone," he went back to their first name basis.  He usually only called her by some incarnation of her title to make a point.  He also did if they were in a situation that called for it.  The other men had taken a similar stance – she had asked them to.  He lowered his hands and they began to head for the door again.  She would open up to him – eventually.  

They reached the door, and she paused.  He looked at her, "What?"

She scrunched her eyes shut and shook her head quickly, "Nothing."  She reached up and opened the door.  Had she grown that accustomed to him, the way he treated her, in a few short days?  No, she was tired – too much civilian work.  

He tilted his head to look at her, "You were waiting for me to open the door for you?"  It was a question, not a statement.  

"No, I was – thinking of something," she shook her head softly.

"Sounds more like someone," he said.  They had begun making their way through the main corridors.  

He said it in a way that implied a part of him was reminiscing; he wasn't trying to give her a hard time.  "He and I are nothing like you and her," she said matter-of-factly.  

"As you wish," he said lightly.

Bishop said that when he was pretending to agree with you.  Rhone glanced at Griffin out of the corner of her eye.  "The new guy, have you…?" she asked a leading question.  

Griffin quickly held up his hands, "Good cop."  He said it as though he was eight years old, calling the front seat of the car.  She looked at him again.  "I picked him up," he defended.

"Fine," she conceded.  It wasn't like she could change it now anyway.

Feeling slightly guilty, Griffin held out his hand for her duffle bag.  "Here," he said, "Let me take your clothes."


	45. Chapter 45

The doors abruptly flew open and the hot steam enveloped her.  She set her shoulders back straight and removed every ounce of emotion from her face.  She stopped and deliberately scanned the shower room.  She knew which one she wanted; he was at the far wall – he was the only one that made a move to cover himself when she walked in.  Definitely the new guy.  She began taking large, fast strides in his direction, Griffin behind her.

He was hurriedly wrapping a towel around his waist.  There was a chick in the shower!  And no one cared!  They didn't even give her a second glance!  She was coming right at him.  He backed up against the tile wall; it was a little colder than he would have liked.  He clenched the towel around his waist.

She came right up to him, the tips of her shoes resting on the tops of his toes.  He looked at her eyes and looked abruptly away, avoiding her icy stare.  The tile wall suddenly felt warmer and he wished it would swallow him whole.

Maybe she should have left her contacts in for this.  No, she wasn't going to wear them all the time just to make him feel comforted.  

"Everyone, out," she ordered loudly, still staring at the new recruit.

The few other men showering in the room picked up their towels and headed for the locker room.  Griffin turned on his heels and followed them.  Oh, dear God, don't leave me alone with her, the new recruit was beginning to panic.  

"What the hell, Griff?" Jazz said, toweling himself off.

"Rhone's – instilling respect in the new guy," Griffin looked at the swinging double doors to the shower.

"Like you did to Awol?" D asked suspiciously.

Griffin looked at the three men before him for a moment, "…Yeah."

The three men looked at one another for a moment, rushed to the swinging doors, and shoved their ears against them.  "This is gonna be sweet," D whispered excitedly.

"Shut up, Asshole!"  Thaxx jabbed D in the ribs with his elbow.

Griffin brought his hand to his eyes to rub them.  He was second in command.  Certainly, he should do something…  He walked toward the doors, toward the men that were crouched there.  He straightened into an authoritative posture and slowly leaned his ear against the door.  

She hadn't taken her eyes off of him, even moved a muscle, since the other men had left the room, and that felt like hours ago.  Although it was probably more like two minutes.  …Those eyes…

"Do you have a problem, Soldier?" she growled at him.  

"Umm…" it would be impolite to say what he was really thinking, "You're in the guys shower."  It was something else that was nagging at the back of his mind.  

She looked at him as though he had thrown her into a silent internal rage.  Then, she took a step backwards and began walking the parameter of the shower room.  "Do you know who I am?" she suddenly appeared to find something very interesting about the tile wall adjacent to the one he was leaning against.  

"Um, well, no," he admitted.

"I'm Rhone Chade," she said flatly.  She was having a difficult time concentrating on being a bitch, which normally took little to no effort.  She looked over her shoulder when he didn't respond.  He was looking her up and down with wide eyes.  "Is there some kind of problem?" she snarled.

"The way they talked about you," he implied the men he had met so far, "And well, everyone else I met was a guy."

"I see," she said as though she were looking though a microscope at some lab specimen.  She walked to the center of the room and stood there.  Finally, she said, "Everything you saw today, this entire complex is mine."  She did a complete turn and held her hands upturned in front of her as though enlightened by some divine force.  "And from what Griffin tells me, what you see when you look in the mirror is mine as well," she referred to his enlistment.  

She saw a look of mild terror cross his face.  She had to stifle a smile.  She kept her stoic face, "Front and center, New Guy."  She pointed at the ground in front of her.  

"My name's…" he started.

"Your name, like your old life, is irrelevant now.  You are a soldier, nothing more," she informed him like she was teaching algebra.  He didn't move, just looked at her.  She pointed to the area in front of her again, "NOW!"

He jumped and ran -- as fast as the wet floor and clutching a towel would let him – to the exact position she pointed at.  

She started to walk a tight circle around him, keeping about six inches from him at all times.

"This is too good!" D whispered quietly.

Griffin tried to hide his smile but was unsuccessful.  D and Thaxx had taken the position of rolling on the floor and holding their stomachs, doing everything in their power not to laugh out loud.  Jazz was crouched down, beating his knee with a closed fist.

"Poor guy," Griffin said quietly as he shook his head – grin still evident.  

They turned their attention back to their source of entertainment.   "…So, to make a long story short, you," she emphasized the last word, "are in my shower."

"Ahhh…  Sorry?" he ventured an apology – he didn't know what else to say.

She was still circling him like a bird of prey, hands clasped behind her back.  She stopped near his right arm, "Drop the towel, Soldier."

"Wh-What?" he clutched the towel even tighter.  

That was it, Griffin wrapped his arms around his stomach and slowly descended to the floor in wide-mouth, silent laughter.

"I said, drop the towel," she didn't know how far to push this bad cop thing.  Eventually, he would get used to showering with her, all of the others did.  …Just one of the guys…

It took every ounce of his will to unclasp his terrycloth shield.  It hit the floor and he stared straight ahead.

She continued to circle again, never really looking down.  She didn't want to check him out, she wasn't interested…  She never checked out any of the guys, it would be like sleeping with a close relative – maybe not a brother, but a close cousin or something.  "As I was saying, you are in my shower," after a moment she added, "You are my bitch."  She made a point of looking at the towel on the floor.  "I'm sure that Griffin filled you in on all the finer points of training and operation.  You will begin real training in the morning – oh-four-hundred," she said stoically.

The four men on the floor quickly crawled in a vain attempt to scatter before she walked out the door.  They needed to find something to pretend to do, fast. 

She let the doors shut behind her.  She guessed that New Guy would stand there for a few minutes trying to regain his sense of self.  She surveyed the room, "What are you doing?"  

Griffin looked up from filing D's toenails.  "What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"At least Jazz and Thaxx are doing something believable," she gestured to the two men that were shaving and combing their hair.  She started to walk out, "And besides."  She paused for a moment, "You guys were so damn loud, I could have shot you in the dark."

She peered over the ledge.  This part of the city was dingy and impoverished, but one could tell by the buildings that it was once pristine – perhaps, sixty years ago.  It was so dark, with its abandoned buildings and lack of public lighting.  This was her favorite place – for this anyway.  

She raised her right hand, liquid metal shooting from it in a tight stream.  Before it hit the ledge of the building across the street, she jumped.  Her momentum brought her over the next ledge.  She walked toward the front of the building.  Every so often, there would be a small stone animal mounted on the ledge.  

She reached the larger than life winged lion that marked the front of the building.  It was on all fours, wings outstretched – as though it was frozen in time just as it was about to take flight.  She jumped onto it with ease and sat on it as though it had the potential of taking her into battle – and waited.

She looked down at her hand and raised it for a better view.  She rotated it in front of her.  Its reflective surface allowed her to see her face in it – despite the darkness.  Well, it wasn't her face, it was the smoothed out surface of her armor.  She was completely covered in it right now, like a solid human mirror.  After her first – mistake – whenever she went out like this, she made it look like she had a masculine frame – well, more of one, which wasn't very hard.  

She continued to gaze at her hand, thinking of her talk with Griffin.  He had a more optimistic view of Lex's behavior.  There was no real fight:  no raised voices, no hurtful remarks…  It was more of a disagreement over – well, that was up for debate.  Griffin contributed it to anything from the dangerous nature of her occupation to her leaving without goodbye sex – or any contact at all for that matter.  In any case, he held to the belief that it stemmed from affection.  She shook her head.  …Poor optimistic sap.  

He pointed out that she should have given her cell phone number or "The Number."  She didn't mention that she had given "The Number" to Clark.  She doubted the boy would ever use it – right?  She contemplated Clark briefly; he might call just to invite her over for milk and cookies.  …Damn their superpower bonding.  

She folded her arms on the lion's stone mane and rested her head on them.  She felt hollow inside…  

…She missed him?  No.  I am beyond such things, she reassured herself.

She told Griffin that he had been wrong; she should never have told Lex.  She didn't blame her understudy for this misfortune, but Lex was a civilian and had problems accepting.  

Besides, she thought proudly, I need no one and I need nothing.  I am Rhone Chade.  It was odd how fast that inflated sense of dignity faded.  She chose to ignore it.  

She should be thankful for the time that they had together.  The time that she enjoyed with him, even if he didn't feel the same way, was perfect.  She was unwilling to pinpoint what exactly those feelings were.  …And this way, he was safe.  

She had told herself from the beginning that they were impossible.  What would he really want with someone like her anyway?  Nothing, he wouldn't want her in the first place.  

There was a scream from farther down the lifeless street.  Her head jerked up instantly.  She simultaneously raised her arm and liquid metal careened toward a building nearer the scream.  She pushed hard off of the forequarters of the winged lion and entered into a tethered fall.  


	46. Chapter 46

It was on her drawing table.  Rhone didn't understand why she had requested it.  It was probably the same reason that she really called Clark a couple days ago – a reason deliberately left ignored and unidentified.  

She called Clark; she rested her forehead on her hands.  …I was just checking on – things she reminded herself.  Of course.  

She had decided to give a very vague truth to the boy about working for the military – he already knew her other secret and if he actually called that number she had recklessly given him, it wouldn't take long for him to figure something out.  Overall, he seemed alright with it; his parents must have instilled a little patriotism in him as well.  

…Just checking if a Midwestern town of 45,000 needed immediate military assistance or assistance of the – extraordinary kind.  …She feigned an emergency when the topic turned to things she didn't want to discuss – specifically a certain handsome billionaire – and got off the phone.  

She finished coloring the page she had in front of her.  She held it up and away from her, thinking about how pathetic she was.  She couldn't believe that she was still working on this comic idea, as well as the one she had worked on with – him.  …She had found her thoughts drifted to him when she didn't have something to focus on.  

She looked at the very thick packing envelope on her drawing table again.  She picked it up and turned it over in her hands.  It was about a foot and a half tall, and about a foot wide.  It was flexible – as flexible as something that was probably three inches thick could be.  She shook her head and set it in its previous position on her drawing table…

…

…It was on her drawing table.

She stood suddenly and sat at the computer console in her apartment.  She pushed a few buttons and spoke into the microphone, "Sims?"

"Sims, Sam here," a male voice said.

 She reclined and put her bare feet on the desk.  "Sam, where are Griff and New Guy?" because of the computer log, she knew they were in one of the Sims.

There was a fury of clicking of keys.  And almost instantly the reply was, "Sim 2, Rhone."

"How long?" she asked.

"Since – oh six hundred," he said after a brief hesitation.

She knew what time it was, they had been in there for about three hours.  "Can you see them?" she asked.

She heard him get up, "Nope, sorry.  Do you want me to…?"

"No, but when they get out…" she began.

"I'll send them to you," he finished.

"Thanks," she terminated the communication.  She stared at the computer screen for a moment before she turned her attention to the sole of her right foot.  …Better put socks on.

It was Wednesday.  Lex had begun to begrudge the day.  It was the day that a courier brought his weekly comic book issues.  He had always looked forward to it until now.  In just a little over two weeks, since she had left…  Now he didn't even like to think about it.

He glared at the flat courier box on the desk of his home office as though if he did it hard enough, they would just go away.  Comics made him think of her.  They made him feel – a horrible remorse.  It was horrible because it couldn't be undone.  At least it usually allowed him to ignore the loneliness…

The comics were just as bad as his Mercedes.  He got in it last week and was – assaulted by the smell of Rhone Chade.  If that unidentifiable scent had taunted him before, it haunted him now.  Hans, his mechanic, had looked at him like he was insane when he abruptly got out of the well-tuned German machine and ordered his Aston Martin for the day – as well as demanding the Mercedes be finely detailed before he drove it again.  

"Hey, Lex," Clark's voice ripped him from his brooding.  Well, it would have been brooding if Luthors did such a thing.  

Lex stood, "Clark, what brings you here?"  He asked as though he had no idea.

"Just wanted to see what was going on," Clark looked toward the billiard table in a silent suggestion for one of their very informal games.  Lex had been – more distant and slightly more irritable since Rhone Chade had left.  The day following her departure, when Clark had done the produce delivery, he had begun to notice it.  He figured it could be stress or a number of things but, unfortunately, Clark could spot woman trouble – he wondered how he had had so much of it when he had never even had a girlfriend.  

He had prodded Lex slightly for information, but didn't want to push – he could be wrong, after all.  But, after he talked with Rhone on the phone on Monday – not exactly a wealth of information on the topic either – he definitely knew there was a problem.  However, he didn't know if he actually had the right to – get involved.  

Clark was the worst liar in the entire universe.  Lex silently agreed to the game by walking to the billiard table and racking up the balls.  "Since I saw you at The Talon an hour ago?  Nothing new," Lex looked up from the billiards.

Clark smiled.  It wasn't one of his power grid draining smiles.  Lex looked at him for a moment…  It was a nervous, almost guilty smile.  Clark Kent was keeping something from him, and it was different than that vague sense of withholding he normally perceived.  He had felt it for the last couple days, but now he was certain.  

"Oh," Clark said as he took an over interest in chalking his cue.  

Lex leaned over and broke the colored balls apart, "You?"

"Me what?" Clark asked immediately.

"Anything you need to share?" after a pause Lex added -- a little too lightly, "Something new?"  He straightened and in the very back of his mind wondered if they would ever play a real game.  Probably not, Clark would never get to shoot if they did.

Clark knew that look on Lex's face.  Clark lined up his shot, "Not really."  He shot – and missed.  

Lex looked down at the table and nodded.  He leaned over the table, "That's too bad, what will we talk about now?"  He shot – three ball in the side pocket.

Clark raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and lined up his shot.  He had known Lex long enough to know that stance and that voice.  He was being toyed with.  Not in the way that Lex toyed with his enemies, but in the way he did to make naïve farm boys see something.  He shot – fifteen ball corner pocket.  A closed lip smile crossed his features, having made the shot and figured out Lex's little – whatever he was doing.  

Clark put the thick end of the pool cue on the ground in front of him and clasped both hands just below the tip.  "Hey, I know what we could talk about," he watched Lex line up an easy shot on the other side the table.  

"And what is that?" Lex didn't look up, drawing his cue back.

"How you screwed things up with Rhone," Clark said innocently, just as Lex was taking his shot.

The whole cue went astray and Lex's elbow landed softly against the red felt of the table.  Both young men watched the cue ball roll to the side, tap the eight ball, and follow the black ball into the side pocket.  

Lex didn't move for a short moment.  He just watched the side pocket that the eight ball had fallen into with a set jaw.  He straightened and tossed the cue onto the table.

"I guess I win," Clark said with a sweet voice and a smile to match.  He placed his cue next to Lex's.  

Lex looked at him out of the corner of his eye as he walked back over to his desk.  Clark must be hanging out with me to much, Lex mused.  He beat me, Lex thought, but wasn't referring to billiards.  He took a seat behind his desk, "What gives you that idea?"

"Eight ball has to go in last," Clark needlessly pointed out.

"I mean about Rhone Chade," Lex clarified with a – proud? – smile.  

"When I talked to her on Monday…" Clark began as he sat across from Lex.

"Monday?" Of course, Clark had Rhone's cell phone number.  How had he forgotten that?  He must have been – distracted, off his game.  He could call and apologize and…  Lex realized that his rating on the Urbane Scale had plummeted dramatically in the past two minutes.  …Urbane…  

"Yeah, she gave me a call after dinner," he noticed Lex was giving him an indiscernible look.  "Anyway," he began quickly, "She kind of told me what happened."

"She 'kind of' told you?" he asked.

"Her exact words were 'Mr. Luthor recognized the veracity of the situation and nullified our alliance," Clark had to look at the ceiling to recall the exact words.  

Our alliance?  She would say something like that, but only to do what she thought was protecting Clark.  For an odd reason, Lex felt a small smile tug at his lips.  …She shared her secret with him…  "I never said anything like that," Lex said.  Well, he didn't.

"She didn't really go into any specifics," Clark said, "She said there was some kind of emergency and had to go, but…"

Lex leaned his forearms on his desk.  There was a weight on his chest, "But what?"

"I kind of didn't believe her," Clark admitted.

Lex wondered if she was called away on a mission.  His stomach fluttered, was she alright?  What if never got to tell her he was sorry?  …Just ask Clark for the damn number.  

Clark waited a long moment and then stood.  With a faint smile he said, "I'll see you around."

Lex stood as Clark turned to the door, "Clark?"

Clark turned to face his friend again.  He absently took a step backwards, waiting for Lex to speak.

"How…" Lex began.  He put his hands in his pockets and looked at his desk, "How did you know that it was me?  …If – you didn't believe what she said about there being an emergency."

Clark looked at the floor and ran his fingers through his dark hair, "Because…"

Both men stood in their positions, looking down.  Lex was apprehensive about potentially hearing the truth and having absolutely no idea what that truth was.  Clark was apprehensive about speaking it and afraid of hurting his friend.  

"Because," Clark's voice almost became a whisper, "You really like her."

Lex looked up at Clark, his mouth slightly open.  He was torn between disbelief and thanks.  Clark had just answered a question that Lex didn't even know that he was asking – at least, he didn't know how to ask.  

Clark glanced up with a look that was honest and – sad.  He was willing to admit to himself that in a way he envied Lex – the guy did have everything.  However, he also felt sorry for him – alone in this castle and in many other ways.  Lex was in his early twenties and had honestly told him that he was his first friend – when they didn't even know each other.  Not that he was an authority on Lex now.  And the relationship he had with his father, what happened to his mother, always being judged by his lineage…  And then there were his other relationships with women – so meaningless he referred to them as though they were games.  

Lex just nodded slowly, his brow creased.  Did Clark just tell me that I'm self-destructive?  …Did I just – appreciate it?  "Thanks, Clark," Lex's face softened a bit.  Ask for the number, Lex, he urged himself.  Would she even want to talk to him?  What would he say to her anyway?  Hi, I'm sorry I was a bastard, but I'm self-destructive with some severe emotional baggage…  …Right.  

Clark smiled softly and started for the door again.  

Lex watched the door for a few moments after Clark had disappeared through it.  He didn't get the phone number.  The next time he saw Clark, he would ask for it.  He didn't want to call without having some kind of plan anyway – more like rehearsed speech of apology.  And if the number was right in front of him, he might act prematurely.  


	47. Chapter 47

Lex wound his way back to his office after dinner.  He walked slowly, once again contemplating how she had managed to corrupt meals for him as well.  …The deafening quiet…

He opened his office door – darkness.  He moved to the desk to turn on a light.  He was mentally running over what he had so far in his apology – without actually saying the words "I'm sorry" -- when an icy feeling of fear wrapped itself around him.  He stopped for a moment and listened – nothing.  He shook it off and turned on the small desk lamp with a 'click.'  

He jumped back when he saw a young man no more than two feet in front of him.  The man was wearing all black with black sunglasses, despite the fact that it was pretty much dark outside.  

Lex immediately put his hands up.  "What do you want?" a slight bit of panic filtering its way into his voice.

Lex was about to offer the man some of his vast resources when the expressionless figure took a hand from behind his back and held it out to Lex.  Lex noticed that he was being handed a very large packing envelope, curving under its own weight.  

His fear had subsided slightly and Lex stopped to look at the brown envelope with curiosity.  The young man raised the envelope toward Lex again in another offering.  Lex pondered the possibility that this was some kind of trick, but realized that if something bad were to happen it probably already would have – the guy was already in his house. 

Lex slowly reached for the envelope.  He turned it over in his hands; it was heavier than he thought it would be and there weren't any markings.  "What is it?" he looked to the young man.

The man shifted nervously and looked around.  Lex looked around as well, not fully understanding what he was looking for.  

The figure began to stride purposefully to the door.  Lex decided not to call security – security.  How did he get in here?  

He opened the envelope and pulled out its contents.  It was a large book with a light blue paper cover.  The title was written in small regular type – entirely too small for the size of the book – like it had been put on with a regular typewriter.  The cover read:  Invoice Audit of Luthor Corporation.  

Lex looked at it for a moment – this was the official government document.  No one that wasn't a government employee was to see this – especially not anyone that had anything to do with Luthor Corp.  "Wait." his head snapped up after a moment of realization.  

The figure in black was about to step out the door, but stopped in his tracks.  He hesitantly turned around.  

After a moment Lex asked, "Who sent this?"  As if he didn't already know.  

The young man shifted in place.  He ran his fingers though his short hair; "OK, is this part of the test?"

Lex narrowed his eyes at the young man, truly having no idea as to what he was talking about.

The man's posture turned to one of abrupt realization and he put his hands over his mouth, "Shit!  You're not going to tell her, are you?"  He remembered how she said hello; he didn't want to know how she punished failure.  

"No," Lex was being honest.  He knew who the young man was talking about.  "Not if you tell me what I want to know," he amended.

"You didn't know that I was coming?" he asked in disbelief.

Lex shook his head as he turned to sit at his desk.  Is this one of the exceptionally talented people Rhone talked about?  No wonder she was in charge – not that he was trying to belittle the tremendous amount of talent she had demonstrated.  But this guy was…  Lex thought for a moment, "So, you're the new recruit."  He raised his hand to offer him a seat.  

The young man hesitated and slowly took the seat that Clark had occupied hours before, "Yeah."

"Tell me about this test," Lex prodded.

"Get in and get out without alerting security.  Most importantly – don't speak, be authoritative without words.  And deliver the envelope, which I hope you appreciate, because the fucker is heavy," the man put his left hand to his brow.

Lex perked his eyebrows at the last portion of his statement.  "It's not that heavy," Lex looked at the report that sat before him.

"It is when you have to run with it from Metropolis," he said bitterly.  

"You ran from Metropolis?  How long did that take you?" Lex asked.

"Long enough to make me think about using some of my new found skills on you so I would never have to do it again, Mr. Luthor," he said through gritted teeth.

Lex stifled a laugh, "You can call me Lex.  And you are…"  

"New Guy," was his reply.

"New Guy?" Lex questioned.  That wasn't very creative.  He looked back to the report and opened the front cover to leaf through it.

"Yeah, she said that they needed something to call me until I found a name," he emphasized the world "found."

Lex nodded as he read the table of contents.  …Holy shit.  This document not only covered what was found at Plant Number Three, but all of Luthor Corp.  A ball of glee formed in his stomach and exploded.  There was no way his father could ever dream of getting his hands on this, that was why he hated the idea of the audit so much.  He resisted the almost overpowering urge to jump out of his seat and do some sort of victory dance – most likely never preformed by any Luthor before him.  This was just too good to be true, and he didn't even have to do anything to get it…  Wait…

"Why did she send this?" Lex asked.

"I thought that was something between the two of you," he seemed puzzled, "She told Griff that she owed it to you."

The remnants of his glee ball quickly dissipated.  

"I was actually kind of wondering what someone like you did to have someone like her owe you a favor," New Guy said.

Someone like me and someone like her, Lex mused.  "Can you wait here for a moment?" Lex asked as he rose from his chair.

"I really should go; they're timing me," New Guy stood.

"If you don't…" Lex picked up the phone from his desk in a silent threat.  He was truly wondering if this bluff would work.

New Guy looked at the phone, "You wouldn't.  I told you what you wanted…"

Lex raised his eyebrows in a "Wouldn't I?" expression.

"Shit!  I don't believe you people!  Is this because I'm new?" he said in a way that implied he had gotten the brunt a lot the past the few weeks.  

Lex looked at him without emotion and awaiting an answer.

New Guy shook his head and in his defeat said, "What?"  

Lex began to walk out of the room, "Something for your return trip."  

New Guy allowed his head to drop onto Lex's desk with a thud.  

She had her right hand on her hip, feet slightly parted.  She was completely still as she emptied her clip.  Her gun's empty counterpart lay in the counter in front of her, dull silver with a black handle.  She often mused that so many things she – acquired were silver in color.  …Custom-made for her as well. 

Faintly, she heard someone calling her name.  Lowering her gun, she turned around to see Griffin calling to her.  She walked a short way before taking off the protective gear over her ears and eyes.  "What's up?" she asked loudly as others were still shooting.

Griffin motioned to the door that would lead out of the firing range.  She followed him and closed the door behind them.  They were in a room with huge panes of bullet proof glass so they could look out into the firing range.  "New Guy is back on base," he said simply.

"Excellent," was all she said.  The men on the other side had stopped shooting.

"Do…" he wanted to phrase this delicately, "You want me to send him to you so you can get a – full report?"

"Unnecessary," she watched the paper targets glide forward towards the marksmen.  She had come to the conclusion that she had survived quite some time without Lex Luthor, and she could continue to do so.  She needed nothing – until she laughed, or worked on her comics, or ate, or breathed, or blinked -- basically did anything that made her think of him.  …Damn it.

He sighed and turned to leave.  He would get a full report even if she didn't want one.  He didn't understand why she was willing to throw anything she could have with Lex away because of one – non-fight.  Well, he knew why.  It was all the training, all the conditioning.  She must be worried that she would begin to neglect the team.  

He entered a long grey corridor when a thought occurred to him.  She had never really been hurt – at least not like Lex had the power to…  Lex had power, power she wasn't used to giving.  …She put up so many walls and defenses – she put a lot on the line when she trusted Lex.  Griffin knew that, so did she.  …Griffin smiled; I've got to meet this guy.

She listened to Griffin's footsteps recede down the corridor.  She quickly refocused her attention when she saw Awol was trotting up to the bullet proof window with a large grin on his face.  He had two large pieces of paper in his hands.  Rhone knew what they were.  

He slammed the poster-sized papers against the window, facing her.  Each generalized outline of a human had her initials on them, put on before they were sent back to be target practice.  And each had a large hole in the center of the head, from repeated bulls-eyes.  Perfect.

"Jazz told me this is what you did to New Guy's manhood," Awol laughed loudly, referring to the meeting in the shower room almost two weeks prior.

"He was the first guy that I recruited that had any," she raised her voice so he could hear her through the window.  

His smile faded, "…Hey."


	48. Chapter 48

Rhone shut the door behind her and walked the short distance to her bedroom.  She tossed the eye protection she had been wearing in the firing range onto her dresser.

She stopped where she was and listened, trying to identify the noise…  Running...  It was Griffin running down the hall.  She turned on her heels and calmly went to her door.  

She opened the door just as Griffin was sliding to a halt in front of it.  "Oh, Rhone," he hadn't expected to see her that soon.  

"What's wrong?" she asked, stepping aside so he could enter.

"Nothing's wrong," a Clark reminiscent smile crossed Griffin's lips as he walked past her.

"And that's why you were running here," she nodded in a way that said she didn't believe him as she shut the door behind them.  

He continued to smile as he reached for the largest pocket in his cargo pants.  He pulled out a small flat box of dark green felt.  "New Guy brought this back," he held it out to her.  

She looked at it for a moment, "Then he failed, it was a delivery."

"It sure is," then he added, "A delivery for you."

She slowly took it from his hand, "Did you open it?"  She eyed him suspiciously.

He held his hand up to his heart, "I would never do such a thing."

She tilted her head at him.

"I didn't," he looked at her honestly, "I don't even think New Guy looked at it either – you really scare the hell out him."  He went into her tiny kitchen area and pulled a water bottle out of the refrigerator.  

"That's the point," she stated the obvious.  She turned the box over in her hands; it was a jewelry box, no doubt about it.  She put the box on the counter.

"Oh, no," he shook his head as he walked to her side.

"No what?" she asked.

"I know you," he started, "You'll leave it there just to have something new to deny yourself – to torture yourself."

"I think that's a little extreme," she laughed.

"Yeah," he paused, "So, prove me wrong."

She set her jaw and turned to look at the box, leaving Griffin to pear over her shoulder.  She picked it up and held it gingerly in her hands, as though mishandling it would cause it to shatter.    

Griffin brought the water bottle to his lips and tipped it up to take a drink.

Rhone placed her thumbs on the open seam and pulled it apart.  She stopped breathing and just stared at it.  

She heard Griffin choke on his water behind her.  "Holy shit," he said softly.

"It's – beautiful," her voice was a whisper.  She set the box down and picked the bauble up, handling it even more gently than she had the box.  She held it up in the dim light and it shone brighter than an exploding terrorist installation against the night sky.  It wasn't gaudy; it was actually kind of modest in that way, it was just -- expensive.  The necklace was white gold with – flawless diamonds and dark emeralds.  Emeralds?  …He remembered when she told Chloe her favorite color was green.  He remembered…  He listened…

Griffin put his water bottle down next to the felt box and brought his arms around Rhone's shoulders.  "Let me put it on you," he offered as he reached for it.

"No," she said simply, "It has to go back, I don't want his…"

"I know that," he said.  He believed her – more than anything; anyone could just look at her and know that she did not define herself by such things.  Then he added, "He knows that."  Griffin shook his head, what do you get the woman that allows herself nothing?  He gently took the necklace from her hands and began to put it on her.

She wasn't really listening, just thinking of Lex and that he thought that she was worthy of such a beautiful thing.  He was wrong, of course, but still…  She was – touched.  

"Well, I don't know if it was really meant to be worn with a t-shirt," he turned her to face him.  She didn't say anything, just stared blankly at his chin.  "So, is he secretly a queen or do all billionaire playboys collect women's jewelry?" Griffin wondered aloud. 

"I highly doubt it was from his personal collection," she managed to find her voice.  

"I don't know, Rhone," he picked up the box it had come in, "It has his initials in it."

She looked down at the box, and sure enough, the initials L.L. were embroidered on the inside.  She brought a hand up and placed her hand on the necklace.  After a moment, she turned around.  In her flat voice, she said, "Take it off."

"Why?  It's your favorite color…" he started.

"L.L. doesn't stand for Lex Luthor; it stands for Lillian Luthor – his mother.  I won't take something so dear to him," she explained as though she were sick with herself for even putting it on.

"Maybe you are dearer to him," Griffin suggested as he undid the clasp.

"It's a trinket.  We don't need to own such things.  What kind of example would I be setting if I – indulged myself so blatantly?" she asked as she turned to him again.

"I think 'trinkets' usually cost less than a few hundred thousand dollars," he hinted to the obvious price of such a fine piece of jewelry.

She delicately began to place it back into the box that was obviously customized to this particular necklace.  "And where would I wear it?  To a Cambodian jungle to flush out guerillas?  To a security job in South America?" she asked softly.  Anyone that saw it would think that she killed a wealthy woman and ripped it off her corpse.  

Why did it have to be jewelry?  She never wore such things, well, just the watch – but that was different.  It also had function.  …Could this be a – first move?  Could a girl dream that lofty?  An image of Victoria Hardwick flashed in her mind.  No.  Something this expensive still wasn't a big investment to someone like Lex.  She mentally slapped herself for even hoping…  Hoping?  Was she allowed to do something like that?  …She just wouldn't tell anyone.  She began to reevaluate the gift. 

A part of her wanted to keep it.  It was a gift from Lex – a gift that showed he listened to her and cared for her.  It came from his heart, despite the fact that it could very easily be looked at superficially.  It was a sacrifice – something that was his mother's, and he just gave it away…  

            Lex tossed the white towel over his shoulders.  He moved in front of the large windows and absorbed the morning sun.  He breathed deeply and took a long sip of Ty Nant water, still cooling down after his work out.  

            He looked down, the bottle was almost empty.  He grabbed the towel with his free hand and used it to dry the sweat on his scalp.  

            It had been three days since he had extended his – apology to Rhone Chade.  He was beginning to question sending it with that inexperienced soldier.  He really did fail miserably when he had come here – considering what he said his mission was.  What if he took his precious heirloom and fenced it or something?  What was wrong with him?  He was normally so cautious…

            If it did find it's way to her, how did she receive it?  Did she see it as him trying to buy her:  her friendship, her forgiveness, her – affections?  He was beginning to rethink it – how badly it could be misconstrued.  …Would she see it as he meant it?  Would she see that he was forfeiting something that…?  He should have sent a note with it -- one that actually said the words.  But that was – hard.  No, it was impossible to put into words.

            He remembered when buying people was easy and common, when the concept made sense – but they all wanted to be bought.  He didn't really think about it then, but he knew that is what it was – even at the time.  

            He turned on his heels and ran the towel over his head again.  He tossed the damp towel onto the treadmill as he walked toward the door.  He brought the bright blue bottle to his lips again and opened the door to the hall.  

            He didn't really know what he wanted her to do – Ok, he knew what he wanted.  That didn't bother him as much as not knowing what to expect her to do.  He played most of the women he was with, had them figured out – what they wanted from him.  But she was – different.

            He was about to turn the corner at the end of the hall when he noticed the glass table that normally only had a single orchid on it, supported something else.  He stopped abruptly and set his empty bottle of Ty Nant next to the dark green jewelry box.

            He picked it up and rubbed his thumbs over the felt.  …He hung his head slightly.  She didn't see what he was really trying to say.  …At least she had the decency to return it – which was too bad, it would look great on her.  But he would believe that about anything.

            …This wasn't here before.  He looked up suddenly and jogged to the end of the hall – nothing.  He jogged to the other end – nothing.  A frown marred his features.  How did she…?  Did she come herself or did she send someone else?

            He stared at the box for a moment and decided to open it.  Things like this always made him feel better, things that were his mother's.  However, the feeling of rejection was too strong.

            A folded piece of paper fluttered to the floor.  His heart jumped and he bent to one knee to pick up the small white paper.  

            He rested the open box on his knee and held the paper between his thumb and index finger for a long moment.  A million different possible messages ran though his head as he looked at it.  "I can't be bought, Asshole," being the most prominent, and the least desirable.  

            Just open it, he yelled at himself.

            He unfolded it and read the brief message, written in the artistic hand he had come to know as hers:

I understand.  

RC

            That was it, two words.  He smiled softly.  …If she understood then why did she return it?  And why didn't she stick around?  …Well, she understood, and that was good.  …He wanted to see her.  

And how do they keep getting in here?  …His first time at the mansion, Clark said that he squeezed through the bars at the front gate…  I should get those checked -- he made a mental note to himself.

It was late and she wondered why he was awake.  She knew he would be in Metropolis this week, and she assumed he would be at this penthouse.  She didn't think that he would stay at the mansion his father lived in – despite the fact that Lionel Luthor was out of town.  

From her position across the street, strategically stationed on the side of a building, she could see that he had been sitting at his desk for hours.  …Why was he three days early for the exhibit at the Luthor Wing of the Metropolis Art Museum?  Should she contact him?  It had been about a week since she sent the necklace back, was he angry that she had done so?  

She rubbed the metallic covering over her eyes with her reflective hand -- she often wondered how her vision was not hindered when it was there.  Well, it was on a long list of things that she didn't really understand.

She had done two military jobs in the last week and was beginning to feel the effects of nonstop action.  She was thankful to have enough men to rotate through when jobs came up like that.  

She watched his head slightly roll to the side; he must have finally dozed off.  She smiled.  …She was slowly gripped with a – longing to be closer to him.  

She looked around; the other windows in his building were dark, as well as the windows of the building she was currently attached to.  She looked down, no one on the street, only a couple of cars.  This wasn't her normal neighborhood; she exercised extreme caution.  

She stood up, standing horizontal on the vertical face of the cement building.  She felt gravity pull on her – more so on her head and shoulders, farther from the soles of the feet that held her to the building.  It didn't bother her; she had learned to compensate for it some time ago.  

She extended her arm and shot a stream of the relic to the ledge of his balcony and released the metal at the soles of her feet.  As soon as the stream hit the balcony, she began to retract it.  She expertly climbed over the ledge and peered in the sliding glass door.  

He was sleeping, but he was moving.  It looked – restless.  She debated making a quiet entry and moving him to bed, but decided that it was a little too risky.  And he might realize that he didn't go to bed himself.  Or if he woke up and saw her like this – not that he would be able to tell it was her – he might experience some sort of terror-induced seizure or something.  

She shook her head; she really did inspire fear in anyone that saw her this way.  Well, almost anyone – everyone that knew her true identity was actually pretty good about it.  It had never occurred to her before, fascinating.  …People that she was helping usually took it pretty well too, now that she thought about it.  Maybe they were too afraid to make a commotion – or maybe not…  Probably.  

He stirred.  She looked to the top ledge of the building and released another liquid metal stream.  


	49. Chapter 49

Lex leaned forward and placed his elbows on the desk.  He rubbed his eyes absently.  Must have dozed off, he told himself.  He checked his watch, well, at least it wasn't for long – it never was.  

He stood and turned to the glass door behind him.  A feeling at the base of his chest was drawing him out there.  

As he was opening the door, he saw his reflection in the glass.  His black silk shirt was rumpled from the nap.  

He stepped out to the balcony and was quickly met with November's chill.  He didn't tend to make balconies a habit.  He wasn't afraid of heights, he just – didn't see the point in taking unnecessary risks.  Enough bad things happened to him – he rolled his eyes at that thought.

He stepped to the edge of the balcony, the thick wrought iron railing pressing just below his navel.  He looked down – there was a silent street ten stories below him.  He inhaled deeply and took a quick step backwards.  

He could see his breath in the air and gave the darkened buildings along the street one last glance.  He turned to go back inside, maybe he would try to wrestle with sleep – maybe he wouldn't even bother.  

Lex opened the door and heard his feet crunch on the gravel on the roof of The Metropolis Plaza.  He couldn't believe that he had to come to Metropolis so much earlier just to get this research data for his father.  …He had been having ill feelings about this since it had been arranged.  

He shifted the metal briefcase to his right hand and checked his watch – exactly 11 pm.  There was no one here.  He attempted to see into some of the darker shadows but still couldn't see anything.  When he was a few feet from the ledge of the building he stopped.  He checked his watch again, only two minutes had gone by – it felt like longer.  

He spun around when there was a noise behind him.  A man in a suit stepped out from a shadow.

"Lex, glad you could make it," he was holding a thick manila folder. 

Most people didn't address him so – casually when he didn't tell them to.  "I must say, I was curious about your," he paused, "Choice of conference rooms."  As he drew nearer, Lex could make out more of his features.  The first thing that he noticed was the man was wearing a cheap suit.  He had an unkempt beard and dark greasy hair that came just above his shoulders.  He didn't look like any scientist Lex had ever seen.  

Uneasiness crept over Lex and he backed up instinctively until the very short ledge of the building could be felt against the back of his knees.  …This could be very bad.  Lex looked behind him – they were quite a ways up, twelve stories.  He took a quick breath and made himself face the scruffy man again.  

The man smiled and held out the manila folder, "I keep odd hours."

As do most unethical scientists, Lex thought bitterly.  He raised the briefcase and took the folder from the man's hand without a word.

The man took the metal case, "A pleasure doing business with you."

Lex opened the folder and flipped through the contents.  "HEY!" he yelled angrily when he realized that the data was not as promised.  What was in the folder was common knowledge to anyone that knew anything about the fertilizer business – and at his age had read more books than, well, most people could consider possible in a lifetime.

As he looked up, there was a pressure on his chest.  …That bastard pushed him.  

He lost balance and went over the edge of the building.  He couldn't scream, or even breathe.  All he could do was feel the air rushing past him, see the ground speeding toward him.  He managed to close his eyes and he flew again – just like when he drove his Porsche over the bridge.  Except, this time Clark couldn't save him – no one could.  He thought of his mother, and he thought of Rhone…

He felt something slam into him and he let out an, "Ugh."  But it came from the side, not below.  He was still moving, but he wasn't falling.  The front of his body was pressed against something hard and something was being rapped around his waist and under his arms.  

He instinctively wrapped his arms around whatever it was.  It felt like – like – a person.

He tentatively opened his eyes and saw the ground coming at him.  He clutched his savior tighter and started to breathe very rapidly.  Then he started to rise again and he felt as though more things were being wrapped around him – he was oddly comforted.  He began to descend again, but reached a low point and started upwards.  The process repeated continually.

Finally, he decided to venture a look as to what had him.  He turned his head.  It was dark, but he saw his own eye looking back at him.  His whole body flinched at the surprise.  

After a moment, his infamous curiosity won over fear.  He turned his head farther towards what – who held him.  He furrowed his brow – it was…  No, he must be seeing things.  It was the profile of a man, almost completely featureless.  No hair, no lips – but it did have a mouth, no distinguishing characteristics…  And it made of this – substance.  It was like a mirror, but not quite as smooth and not quite as reflective.  It was unbelievable how much it looked like…  But that was fiction, this is real.  …Wasn't it?

He wanted to speak, but was unable to.  It was probably better he didn't, odds are it would come out a high pitched squeal or something equally pitiable.  

He felt pretty secure – attached to this thing.  He didn't know how he was being held on – what was wrapped around him, but he was pretty sure his arms weren't doing a majority of the work of keeping him attached.  

…Why aren't we plunging to our deaths?  He could feel its shoulders moving – its arms were moving.  The continuing up and down of this ride never changed.  The lights in buildings were still streaming by.  He looked to the ground again; the ground was still – oh, God.  He tasted acid.  Swallowing hard, he rested his head on its shoulder.  

When the severe stomach upset subsided slightly, he ventured another look – ahead of them this time.  He watched its right arm come forward, a stream shot out from the base of its hand, the stream hit the face of a building, they swung on it, the right arm rotated behind, and then the left arm came forward and did the same thing.  It moved through the streets like Spider-Man.  Except when he turned to watch the arm that went behind the back, the substance was retracting and being – absorbed.  Fascinating.  

Something slid across his back and lay diagonally across it, above the right hip to left shoulder.  He could feel it was – an arm.  It gripped him tightly, despite the fact that he was pretty sure that he was already secure.  However, he became thankful when – in addition to the motion that they already had – he started to feel centripetal force.  They were taking a corner and accelerating around it.  He breathed in deeply – frightened – and renewed his tight grip around its shoulders.  

He squeezed his eyes shut so tightly, he was reminded of flying to Smallville on his father's helicopter when he was nine.  Except the thing he was with didn't give him some speech about destiny or how he wasn't allowed to feel fear.  If he wasn't in the situation that he was in, he might just tell this thing that it was more human than his father.  

He felt the steady rhythm begin again and a thought occurred to Lex, where was it taking him?  Would it hurt him once they got there?  At least he knew the answer to the latter was no.  He didn't know why, he just did.  There was more to it than it saving him from plummeting to his death in the first place.  He couldn't quite put his finger on it.  

Suddenly, there was a jolt and they stopped – just stopped.  He felt his legs being freed and the sensation of being slowly lowered.  He felt himself being let go all over his body; whatever was wrapped around him was retreating.  

He knew the only thing that was holding him now as the arm that it had put around his back.  When his feet hit something solid – something he had no idea he would ever be so thankful for – he opened his eyes.  

He was looking straight at its head.  He let out a small gasp; it had no eyes.  How could it see?  

It tilted its head at him.  Its arm slowly let go, and Lex felt – cold.  It wasn't any warmer than a human being; there was a different kind of warmth that it had given him.  

Lex took a step back, and quickly looked at where it had brought him.  …Home?  Well, it was the penthouse he occupied when he was in Metropolis.  How did it know which balcony was his?  

He brought his attention back to it.  It was – clinging to the smooth wall directly beside the sliding glass door.  He only looked at it wide-eyed, lips slightly parted, and breathing deeply – exhaled air condensing in the cold.  With the exception of the substance that it was made of, it had the body of a man, a well chiseled man.  It wasn't wearing clothes, but it didn't really matter because it didn't have any…  

Lex could get over how much it looked like…

It slowly raised a hand, like it greatly feared scaring him.  He wasn't – afraid of it, it had saved him.  

It – intrigued him.  How in the hell was it staying on the wall?  How did it – web sling?  Is that what it could be considered?  …How could…Why do…Who is…What is…?

He watched it reach past him, slowly taking a hold of the handle of the sliding glass door.  Lex heard some clicking and then it pushed the door, sliding it open.  How did it do that?  …The door had been locked.

            "You're," he paused, "Amazing."  He was shocked to hear his own voice.  Finally, his upbringing got the better of him, "You saved my life.  If there's any way that I can repay you…"  

            It only looked at him.  At least he thought it was looking at him; it was facing him.  It didn't have eyes; it was just smooth – not even sockets – very slightly indented.  So, it was hard to tell.

Very slowly, it reached a hand above its head.  Then it turned toward the wall and began to effortlessly scale it, using both its feet and hands.  It moved like Spider-Man.  …It moved like Spider-Man and looked like…

Lex never took his eyes off it as it made its ascent.  After it effortlessly lifted itself over the edge of the building, Lex stepped backwards until he felt the balcony railing against his back.  Nothing, it was gone.  

After a moment, he turned his attention to the wall it had clung to.  The wall was basically smooth all the way up, no hand grips.  He walked to the wall and put his hand on it.  Nothing.  Perhaps it used that substance to – solidify in the tiny imperfections of the wall, and that was why it could cling to the surface.  …Incredible.  


	50. Chapter 50

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I think you look beautiful," Rhone Chade laughed.

"Funny.  …I don't believe you aren't going," Griffin straightened his tie for the fifth time.  This thing was so – confining.

"Hey, there might be people there that would recognize me.  One cannot be too cautious," she said matter-of-factly. 

He raised an eyebrow at her, "More like a person."

"That's why you are going, this is recon.  Besides," she ignored his comment, "Dresses are for girls."  She pulled a piece of tape off the roll and reached under his white dress shirt. 

"At least there should be plenty of those there," Griffin said with a lopsided grin.

She sighed, "Just try to keep it in your pants for a few hours, maybe come back with something useful instead of a sexually transmitted disease."  She removed her hands from beneath his shirt and placed a bent finger beneath his chin to turn his head from side to side in inspection. 

"I think I deserve a little more credit than that.  And I'm sure I can find plenty of – interesting people to meet," he said playfully.  He began to tuck in his shirt.

She knew what he meant.  "Do not," she said with a serious face.  She could tell he was about to protest.  "That's an order," she straightened his lapels. 

Lex looked around the large open room.  He was standing in the main hall of the Luthor Wing of the Metropolis Museum.  He brought his champaign glass to his lips.  He had been here for an hour and was already bored out of his mind.  He was more than a little regretful that Clark, Lana, and even the quarter back had already learned that high Metropolis society was not all it was cracked up to be.  …Perhaps it was better, the three of them looked quite out of place the other time they came to an opening here. 

For a moment, he watched a man a few yards away.  Lex didn't recognize him, must be new money.

He allowed his gaze to drift upwards, to the large multi-paned skylight above him.  It was dark, but the city lights obscured the stars.  However, the bars on the windows probably had something to do with that as well.  The bars seemed appropriate, he felt as though he was locked in some aristocratic cage. 

For the past two days, he had been looking up more, thinking about the creature – man? – that had saved him.  He had been examining buildings just a little bit harder, trying to see through the night just a little better – when he wasn't mentally recapping everything that had happened that night.  He had begun to feel a scratching at the back of his mind very shortly after it had disappeared over the edge of the building.  The need to investigate what it was – where had it come from…  It had saved his life… 

"Lex," a female with an English accent said from behind him. 

As if the night couldn't get any more trying, he thought bitterly to himself.  He turned with his most innocent smile, "Victoria."

"I was wondering when I would see you again," she closed the distance between them. 

Her red dress was expensive, but – hadn't he seen her wear it before?  For Victoria, that was – unheard of.  Perhaps their last game had financially wounded Sir Harry more than he thought.  He smiled genuinely now.  "Did you need someone to abuse physically?" he reminded her of their last meeting when she had slapped him.  He took another sip of his champaign. 

"Of course not," she gave him her best sexy smile. 

Lex knew that smile, that tone of voice.  He had seen and heard it many times from innumerable women – a few tonight as a matter of fact.  That was usually shortly before they either tried to kill him, steal his money, or fulfill some fetish.  And his track record with this particular woman, well, he knew better than to play with that fire yet again.  He had come out on top the last time they played their game and he intended to leave it that way.  Not to mention she was – bad-mannered, disrespectful, manipulative, sadistic, and just intolerable…  It was ironic that despite all that, she still managed to be boring.  So much so that she wasn't even attractive anymore.  It was interesting how a bad personality could do that.  He shoved his free hand in his pocket – and she sure as hell was no Rhone Chade.  Not even close -- but then, who was? 

"What do you want?" he didn't want her to think there was a chance that they would set up their pieces to play another game.

"Lex…" she said as though she was going to, well, lie.  She started to walk toward him, invading his personal space.

            There was a scream and the entire hall turned to face it. 

            A wealthy woman in her late forties and wearing a sequin gown was being held from behind, a gun pressed against her head. 

"No one move," the man that held the woman said calmly, "This is a robbery.  Anyone that doesn't do what they are told or tries to do anything heroic – well, they die."  From beneath the few tables that were set up in the room and from behind some draperies, more men with poised guns appeared – ten, including the one that had spoken. 

Lex didn't move.  Tuesday:  pushed off a building.  Thursday:  held hostage at gala art museum opening.  I am never leaving the house again, he thought sarcastically. 

Lex felt a hand wrap around his arm.  He looked down to see it was Victoria, hiding behind him – probably incase any shots were fired.  …Rhone would never do that.  She would walk up there and make fun of that guy's greasy hair and…  Wait…  That was that asshole that pushed him off the roof!  The beard was shaved off and he had shed his cheap suit, but it was him.  Lex tensed, he knew that guy was going to be pretty pissed at him – only having walked away from their little exchange with a fraction of the money he wanted and a lot of stacked paper.  He looked to the skylight again, now would be a good time for that thing that had saved him to make a follow-up visit.  …Who was he kidding?  The odds were pretty high he would never see it again – if he had seen it.  No, it was real.

"Everyone congregate at the south end of the hall.  My associates will relieve you of your jewelry, your electronics, your dignity, and anything else that you think that you own," the man with the greasy hair roughly let go of the woman he was holding.  She tripped and her knees hit the marble floor.  She quickly got up and joined the others that were standing at the south end of the hall.

Lex attempted to secure a position in the back of the group, as to not be recognized by the man.  However, he was only capable of reaching the middle of the group with Sir Harry's spawn on his arm.  He tried to pull away nonchalantly, but her tendrils had him like a vice. 

"Alright, let's move," the man said as he walked over to one of the cases that held a priceless Greek artifact. 

They split up, a few using the fear of their weapons to commandeer the possessions of the wealthy patrons; the rest went to the display cases. 

Lex assumed that the cases were made out of the same durable transparent material the skylight was made out of.  No museum would trust its security to simple glass.  The thieves had pulled bags out from under the tables, presumably to aid in destroying the cases. 

He wondered about the police.  No, the wealthy patrons had probably paid them to stay away so when they drove away drunk, no one would make the mistake of stopping them.  It would be too much of an inconvenience.  And since all the metal cages were still above the cases, no alarms had been tripped.  …Shit.

He looked at his Napoleon Franc watch.  He felt a great sadness -- they were going to take it from him.  He wouldn't fight for it, they had guns.  His mother would understand, but that didn't make it any better.  Maybe he could offer the bitchy British brunette on his arm…

Lex waited for a long time, just watching them working on the display cases and then watching the three that were taking the possessions of the onlookers close in on him. 

Everyone jumped when the metal bars dropped suddenly and banged loudly over the cases.  Lex noticed that the men collecting items had stopped two feet from him; he put a hand over his watch. 

"Who the fuck tripped it?" the greasy haired man yelled as he stood.  The other men that had been working on the cases looked at one another as though none of them had.  "Keep working," he growled.  He cast a glance over to the crowd of people.  He made eye contact with Lex and began to walk over to him purposefully.

Oh, shit.  Lex wondered if his head acted as the beacon for disaster.  He was briefly distracted when he noticed one of the men was checking the breast pocket of his black tuxedo blazer.  He pulled out Lex's cell phone and then took the wallet from his pants pocket as well.  Then he said, "Watch."  He nodded at Lex's wrist.

Lex didn't want to give it up.  He stood there for a moment, looking at the man in front of him with an icy glare.

"I was wondering why I didn't read about your untimely demise in The Planet," a voice came from behind the man in front of him.  …How had he forgotten about the ringleader?

The man that was searching Lex turned – thankfully forgetting the watch – and moved out of the way.  Lex could sense that there was an underlying fear of the man that led them.  He was feeling some fear himself, so who was he to judge? 

"What did you do, Lex, make a deal with the devil?" the man asked with a wicked grin as he came face to face with Lex.

Lex didn't respond.  What could he tell him?  Sure as hell not the truth.  This whole time, he never allowed his cool exterior to crack – but in about five seconds, he was about to lose some serious urbane points.  …Urbane…

"Oh, and about your payment.  You seem to come up – a little short," he man was repeatedly smoothing the lapels of Lex's blazer.

Lex was suddenly aware that Victoria had let go of his arm and was attempting to back up and fade into the crowd.  So, he was good enough to be a bullet shield, but when it came to him being singled out by the thieves…  Deserter.  "You were – an unknown risk," Lex tried to explain, "You didn't even give us a name or…"

The man smirked at Lex's pitiful attempt at diplomacy, "You can just call me Gell; everyone else does."

Gell…  Gell…  Where had he…?  …Oh, God.  In a few seconds, he tried to recall everything Rhone had said about the man.  All he really knew is that she considered him dangerous.  Rhone Chade, someone he had never seen show any signs of fear and kicked the shit out of criminals for fun, considered him a threat. 

"Do you have a problem with…?" Gell began, but his gaze slowly shifted over Lex's right shoulder. 

Lex watched his brow furrow.  "Him," Gell pointed behind Lex, "Bring him to me."


	51. Chapter 51

Her black trench coat flapped in the wind. It was dark and cold, but that didn't bother her. She raised a hand to her ear and spoke into the microphone of her hands free head set, "Are you in position?"

"Awol here -- affirmative," she expected that they would be ready; they merely had to take position at the front door.

She turned to the men working on the bars as they cut the last one out of its place. "How's it going?" she asked as though she couldn't see they were done.

Nix very carefully pulled a rack with some beakers in it out of a duffel bag. "It should only take a few seconds," he handed her one of the beakers. She nodded. "Listen, Boss," he said after a long pause, "I don't want to question your authority or anything, but since you appointed me as your temporary second… Don't you think that you should take a cord?"

"It's only three stories, Nix," she said as though it would be like jumping off a chair. She turned and watched the four other men that were going with her. Bungee cords with quick releases were being clipped to harnesses on their backs.

Nix shook his head and went to distribute the remaining four vials. He should be used to this by now – used to her by now.

She walked on the bars that still remained on the skylight. The balance required such little effort, that she didn't even realize that she was doing it until she saw Ace throw his arms out to maintain his balance. She turned as she continued to walk; she wanted to make sure their tethers had been secured.

She reached her position and knelt to release the contents of the beaker onto the transparent pane that looked down into the main hall of the Luthor Wing of the Metropolis Museum. She heard a sizzle when the liquid made contact, followed by the smell of burning plastic.

She continued to look down. Her breath caught when she saw him. Gell was – touching him. …There would be – repercussions to that mistake.

They had fought together in battle. Despite all of the problems they had had in the past, he was one of their own. Before this moment, she had seriously considered handing him over to the authorities – not something that people like her did habitually. But now – well, he would never be safe from her if he lived. She didn't think about why, it just was the way it now was.

…Who was that woman that had stepped away from Lex? Rhone bent down farther to get an even closer look. Her heart constricted and went cold. She was – beautiful. She had – great proportions. Rhone knew who she was; she had gotten minimal information when she had the massive data file on Lex. And she had gotten some red flagged communications regarding her father's company – and since Victoria Hardwick held a high position there… God, she was gorgeous. No wonder he was with her…

Rhone's throat became tight and she swallowed hard. For the first time in a long time, she felt like nothing – a no one. And for the first time ever, she wanted to be beautiful more than anything else. That was followed closely by shame. She shook her head, that's not the life you chose. You never had a chance anyway. Even if you did, their situation wouldn't allow it.

She put on her wrap around sunglasses as she straightened. She shed her trench coat and tossed it to Nix, leaving only a black Kevlar vest over her black fitted t-shirt. He tossed her artist's tube to her and she placed it on her back, where it belonged.

She removed one of her custom guns from its position at her outer thigh, checked the clip one last time, and readied herself – bending her elbow and crossing her arm over her chest so the handle of the gun was away from her face and so the gun would be pointed at the ceiling upon impact.

Thankfully, Gell completely averted his attention to whoever it was behind him. There was a commotion and Lex turned to see who it was.

Two men with large guns brought forward a man in a tux with black hair. His head was bowed down and his hands were being held behind his back, but Lex was only a few feet from him and recognized him as the one he had identified earlier as new money.

Gell grabbed the down-turned chin of the man and pulled it up roughly. At first they did nothing, merely standing there – locking eyes with one another. The unidentified man's eyes were filled with – disgust? Gell's eyes were filled with a mixture of fury and disbelief.

Unexpectedly, the captive man spoke, "Already belittled to petty theft, Gell? She was right about you. What's next? Cutting a rap album? Vandalism? I think I have some spray paint in the trunk of my car…"

Gell let out an indecipherable roar and grabbed the man's shirt. "Why would street trash like you come here anyway? Did your little girlfriend tell you to get some culture and she'd stop holding out on you?" he said cruelly.

Lex noticed the man flinch and roll his eyes heavenward at the words "street trash" but didn't really know why. If he was poor before, he had certainly made a success of himself now. He had on a suit that was almost as fine as Lex's – almost.

"It's odd that you would put it that way. Because I think she sent me here," the man paused, "To fuck you." He smiled a smile that said "prepare to be penetrated."

Gell's face contorted in anger, then realization. He had been holding the shirt of the man; he suddenly he ripped it open.

Lex tried to see what had turned Gell's face to one of dismay, but his eyes ripped to the ceiling when he heard something shatter.

In that second, he saw some black and pieces of the skylight suspended around it. Then he felt someone hit his right side and take him to the ground, "Uh." They climbed on top of him, the top of their chest covering his head. There was something on their chest, it dug into his forehead.

She hit the ground standing and fired at two men that were away from the hostages and they went down. She figured her men had bounced once, detached their cords, and aimed at a worthy target. Then she aimed at Gell and froze.

Gell was looking down the sight of his pistol at her. "How did you know?" he asked curiously and calmly.

"I always told you, you aren't that good," she said plainly.

Lex heard her voice and he began to stir. The body got off of him and he looked at them. It was – the new money? "You OK?" the black haired man asked him.

Lex nodded and began to sit up. There were some pieces of the skylight around him and he had heard some gunshots, so he was thankful that this patron had done what he did. He looked up – it was her…

Rhone and Gell were in a stalemate, standing about fifteen feet apart – guns aimed at one another. All eyes were on them, as though time in this great hall had stopped for a battle of epic proportions.

"Ten against five, Rhone," Gell said tauntingly.

"Have you forgotten how to count as well as how to execute a proper break-in?" she corrected, "Eight against Six. Not to mention half the Metropolis P.D. and ten more of us outside."

He glared at her.

"You're not getting out of here – alive," she didn't move or change facial expression.

After a moment of considering what she had pointed out, he looked her up and down, "You know I always forget how hot you are. It's a shame you're such a bitch, otherwise, we might have gotten together."

Lex started to grind his teeth. He didn't know if he was angrier about him calling her hot, calling her a bitch, or implying that she was the one not good enough for him.

"I always thought it had something to do with me rejecting you," then she added in triumph and distaste, "Repeatedly."

Lex stopped grinding and was – proud? …Happy? Both? Definitely… A smile tugged at the right side of his mouth. …Before, he thought that she would be strong in a situation like this. No, he knew it… He liked to be right, especially about her.

"Charming," Gell said through gritted teeth.

After a long moment, she said, "Just so I know, how long do you intend on keeping this up?" They had had their guns trained on one another for sometime – in terms of having a gun pointed at you.

"You got somewhere to be – a hot date?" He asked in a mocking voice.

"TNG comes on at eleven," she offered.

"Then we better figure out a way to wrap this up," he said lightly.

She allowed herself a sneer, "Are you implying…?"

"You know me too well," he sneered back.

"It was -- forbidden," she pointed out.

"He's dead. …You killed him," he countered.

"I know," she said it so softly that only the two of them could hear it.

None of the men Rhone had come in with moved from their readied position, but Lex could see the very slight shift in place. Something very – taboo had just been mentioned. "You – fucker," the man that had pushed Lex down hissed from beside him.

No one saw her eyes move behind the dark tinted lenses, but for just a moment she took her eyes off Gell. She looked from Lex to Victoria and back to Lex. …Lex. Rhone's voice returned to its stoic state, "Let them all go, and I'll give you what you want."

Gell raised an eyebrow, "Despite the – outstanding orders?"

"Everyone goes," she ignored his last question.

"Some things never change," he laughed. "You read too many fuckin' comic books," he added as an afterthought.

"As you wish," she said. She may be predictable when it came certain things, but so was he. His ego was his weakness, and she had managed to bruise it on more than one occasion. He would give up this whole thing, just for one fight – no one to pull them apart – with her.

"Everyone outside," Gell said loudly, still not taking his eyes off the woman in front of him.

Lex saw that she was slowly moving her free hand to her ear and to the headset that she was wearing, her lips were moving but he couldn't hear. The others that came through the skylight put up their guns.

"But, Gell, there are cops outside!" one of the men that tried to break into the cases began to protest.

"Then you better hope you trained as well and as hard as I told you to. You know the rendezvous," he yelled.

Everyone began to move to the main exit. Lex felt a hand grab him beneath his arm and pull up. "Come on," the new money shook his head miserably.

"No," Lex stood but refused to move.

"Lex, surely overexposure to that – little hamlet has made you lose your mind," a female voice said from behind him. Lex turned, he had forgotten about Victoria.

The new money leaned in very closely to Lex's ear, so no one else could hear what he said, "If you stay, you are a weakness. He'll see that, and use it against her. You could inadvertently kill her." Lex's eyes narrowed at him. "There's no time for this," the new money made an unknown gesture over Lex's shoulder and turned to walk out.

Lex felt a thick arm close around his waist and then he was being lifted. He looked up at one of the guys that dropped from the skylight with Rhone, he was -- huge. He picked Lex up with little to no effort and was now carrying him, on his side, under his arm like he was a sack of potatoes. "Put me down," Lex hissed through clenched teeth. A Luthor, being carried – it was preposterous. It was unheard of. It was… He heard a chuckle. He looked to his side; Victoria was walking beside them – laughing. Lex reached a new level of rage.

A thought hit Lex, he maneuvered so he could see behind him – so he could see the receding figures of Gell and Rhone. Both were very slowly putting their guns to the floor. He was going to yell to her, but he didn't. He didn't know what they were going to do, but the new money's words were still in his ears. …What would that guy know anyway? It was too late; he was going through the door – being carried outside.


	52. Chapter 52

She didn't trust where she was. Certainly Gell had thought to turn off the cameras in this place, but she never trusted him while they worked together – she sure as hell wasn't going to start now. …And she had faith that her boys were working on it. She couldn't risk using the relic here; it was too light – too dangerous. However, she knew that her bond with it still gave her – enhancements, despite its current internal state.

She knew that she shouldn't fight Gell. But she couldn't deny that she wanted this to be a test between the two of them. …She had taken too much from crap from him to do it another way.

Her gun touched the ground at the same time his did. They never took their eyes off of one another. They slowly let go of their respective fire arm. Then they did the same thing again, as each had another holstered weapon. They righted themselves and kicked the guns to the side.

"You're not done," he pointed to her back, the artist's tube that rested there.

She slowly took it off. Then she bent at the waist and a little less than halfway down, carefully dropped it on the ground.

They each took a fighting stance – hers spoke of loudly of martial arts training while his spoke more of military training – and they began to circle one another.

As soon as Lex was out the door, he was put back on his feet. He was going to berate the man that had carried him. He turned and – came face to sternum. He knew the guy was big, and Lex was no short man, but this guy was a goliath – and had pectoral muscles bigger than Lex's head. Lex allowed his gaze to slowly rise to the man's face. The man's jaw was square and he was wearing sunglasses.

"Civilians have to clear the area," the man boomed.

Lex didn't say anything, but he was aware that Victoria had been escorted away by Metropolis P.D. When he didn't move, another man – dressed in the same as all the others that appeared to come with Rhone – came up to them. "Ace, is this guy a problem?" he turned to Lex, "Listen, Armani, this ain't no free show. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here."

"I don't know who you are accustomed to dealing with…" Lex began angrily. He felt hands on his arms, Metropolis P.D. This was probably the start of damage control, considering the E.I.F. was involved.

Lex was flanked by two officers, walking down the large number of steps outside the museum. He heard the one that called him Armani rambling about all passengers putting their tray tables and seats in the upright position as the rest of the people filed out of the museum. What the hell was going on in there? Was she okay?

Griffin quickly positioned his head set over his ear and adjusted the microphone toward his mouth. Police cars were positioned on the steps of the museum, close to the door. At the make-shift command post – being run out of the back of a black Hummer – he learned that everything within a three block radius was sealed off. It was late, so evacuating the nearby office buildings wasn't a problem. Nothing got in that wasn't police or one of them. Civilians were being escorted outside that radius – everyone possible was being escorted out. This was going to be a bitch to fix. All those people – rich people, powerful people…

Something caught his eye, a bald man being escorted away from Awol – looking furious. The pale man looked at the museum; he wanted to stay in there with her. He didn't want to run and hide in his castle; he wanted to protect her… Griffin felt a tug at his heart. He would have done it for the one he loved, but she was gone… "Shit," he mumbled to himself as he reached for his ear.

"Mr. Luthor, you have to reach a safe distance…" the officer at his right was repeating that for the fourth time.

"…Let S.W.A.T. handle it…" the officer on his left was saying for the fifth or sixth time.

S.W.A.T? Lex thought bitterly as they reached the bottom of the steps. You lying pieces of…

"Hey!" someone was shouting from behind them. All three turned around, it was the guy that called Lex Armani.

The man in black caught up to them, "He's mine." He raised his hand to separate Lex from the cop that held his right elbow.

"There must be some kind of mistake, this civilian is…" the cop on Lex's left elbow emphasized the word civilian.

"Listen, Pork Chop, we don't make mistakes. This civilian needs to be debriefed, he's – why am I explaining myself to you? Go hand out some parking tickets or beat on a minority or something," he gave a quick wave with his right hand as he grabbed Lex's right elbow with the hand he had placed there previously. He turned and began to pull Lex back toward the museum.

Lex pulled his elbow away from the man; he could walk himself – despite what they all obviously thought. The man gave him a sideways glance at the gesture. "Where are we going?" Lex leaned slightly closer to the man. There was a dull roar to speak over with all the bustling.

"You can go back with the rest of them, if you want," he offered. They both knew the answer to that was no.

Lex reached his right hand toward the man he was walking with. The man looked at it for a moment as they walked, before finally shaking it. Lex could tell that the hesitation wasn't because the man didn't know what to do – like when he did chivalrous things for Rhone – it was more out of distrust. "Lex Luthor, I appreciate what you are doing here…" he introduced himself.

The man responded, "Awol, and I'm just following orders."

The coat rack guy? Lex slowly withdrew his hand. "Rhone's orders?" Lex asked.

"No," Awol said with a sideways glance, "As soon as the last person was out, we lost contact. She probably took off the head set for this."

"For what?" Lex asked.

Awol shook his head, "Do you always ask so many damn questions?"

Lex gave him a pointed look as they approached an open-backed black Hummer with a number of monitors and electronics in the back. A man was standing with his back to them, his head down, looking at a monitor. Lex noticed that he was dressed in black, but not like the others. He was wearing a suit, an expensive suit…

"Here he is," Awol said as they came up behind the man.

The man turned, Lex's eyes were wide – the new money. He should have known. He wondered what Gell had revealed when he ripped open this man's shirt and what had dug into Lex's forehead, now there was only a few shreds of medical tape on his perfectly toned chest. It must have been some sort of microphone or surveillance device; that was how they knew to come here.

The man had his hand to his ear, "Then dispatch the chopper and find him." He removed his hand and allowed his attention to turn to Lex.

Lex took the initiative and held out his hand, "Lex Luthor."

He took it without the hesitation that Awol had. "Griffin," he said simply. Griffin turned and started to pull something out of the vehicle.

Lex raised his brow, The Griffin – The Always on the Phone with Rhone, Griffin.

"…Who…?" Lex didn't know how to ask. He didn't realize how horrible it was to be one of the people that got put behind the fences, one of the people that didn't get any information, one of the people left to wonder. He felt much better in front of this hi-tech Hummer, the potential of getting information as it happened.

"With Rhone out of touch, I'm in command," Griffin answered.

"Then I guess I owe you…" Lex began.

Griffin turned and with both hands, reached for Lex's head.

Lex instinctively jerked back.

Griffin gave a nervous and embarrassed look that said "oh, the bald thing." He held out his hands, showing Lex one of the hands-free headsets that the members of the E.I.F. were wearing.

Lex took the headset, "Thanks." He didn't specify if it was for allowing him to be here or if it was for the headset. Lex put the set on his head, occasionally someone would speak over it. From what he could tell, it was all people checking in, reporting locations, and other people saying things like "confirmed." It sounded like they were pursuing someone.

Griffin moved to the side and put a hand on Lex's shoulder to pull him closer to the Hummer. He felt Lex stiffen at his touch, but pointed to one of the five monitors that displayed crisp black and white images. They each showed a different angle of the museum hall Lex had come out of. On one of the screens, Rhone and Gell were circling one another. He had his fists in front of himself, like a boxer. She had open hands, one in front of her – elbow bent – and the other behind her in a similar position. "Your father must enjoy the museum, he spares little expense protecting it," Griffin said referring to the high resolution of the image on the monitor.

Awol snorted behind them. Lex and Griffin turned to face him.

"And why aren't you at your post?" Griffin asked.

"Griff…" Awol started.

"Rhone put you at the door," Griffin said.

"Are you kidding? You know that it's gonna be like – like Morpheus fighting Neo in there." Awol sounded as though he was appalled that it was even implied that he couldn't watch.

Griffin leaned close to Awol, "I'm taping it."

Lex had turned back to the monitors. They were still circling. What the hell were they doing? They were just looking at one another. He saw Awol leave out of the corner of his eye.

Griffin was beside him again. "It's nothing against you," Griffin said, referring to Awol's obvious distaste for Lex. Lex gave Griffin a look that allowed his skepticism to show through. "Your father…" Griffin began.

Lex let out a loud sigh as he put one of his hands in his pockets. "What are they doing?" Lex asked, pointing to Rhone on the monitor.

"Probably talking about old times, how they are going pound each other, affirming that this is a fight to the death…" Griffin was still looking at Lex.

Lex turned to Griffin with look of disbelief, "A fight to the death? What the hell is this, some kind of medieval…?"

There was movement on the screen and both men instantly turned their attention to it.


	53. Chapter 53

"I've waited a long time for this," Gell smiled.

"Then what's taking you so long?" Rhone remained stoic as she flexed the fingers on the hand in front of her in a "come here" motion.

He pushed off with his quick foot, running at her with unparalleled intensity. When he reached her, he punched with his right – attempting to use all of his momentum.

She heard a whoosh when she ducked. His momentum brought him over her and she punched into his stomach with her trailing hand.

He grunted loudly and grabbed her tightly bound hair. He was disappointed when she didn't say or do anything that indicated that she was in pain. He kept his hold on her hair and raised her up to his eye level.

She was gritting her teeth, "You cheap fuck."

"Is that an offer?" he asked sarcastically.

She wished that he could have enough of an effect on her so she could vomit right now. "I'll remember this," she said in a voice that mimicked her thoughts.

"I'm sure you won't forget this either," he started to drag her by the hair to one of the long white silk covered tables near a wall. It had a tiered stack of elegantly filled champaign glasses on it. He grabbed the loose fabric of her cargo pants at her thigh, lifted her, and tossed her though the mountain of golden liquid.

She landed on her side and felt a few pieces of glass dig into the surface of her right forearm. That agitated her. She wiped her eyes. She was covered in liquor. That annoyed her. Her hair was disheveled and strands were loose, falling out of her tight quaff. That pissed her off.

Gell leaned his hands onto the table and peered over to the other side. There was some yellow liquid, tinged with light pink – blood. But she was gone. His eyes widened in realization.

The white silk suddenly moved beneath his hands and his elbows smacked against the table. He rubbed his elbows as he watched her stand up on the other side of the table, "Speaking of cheap."

"Just wait," she smirked. She didn't want to say it out loud, but he had started it – the dirty fighting. Grabbing hair? That was something that chicks did to one another in bar fights. …Jerk.

From a standing position, she pushed as hard off the ground and started to come up over the table.

Lex leaned closer to the monitor when her left foot landed on the table in front of Gell, and her right foot made solid contact with his head. Gell staggered back, but remained standing. Rhone jumped off the table and they started fighting furiously. Punches and kicks being thrown at an unbelievable rate. Not that many of them were landing -- most of them were being blocked by the receiver. …It was inconceivable.

He heard Griffin grunt beside him. Lex didn't look up from the monitor – still action packed. Lex considered for a moment, "They were forbidden to fight – by whom?"

"Bishop," Griffin answered simply.

Lex looked up for a moment, giving him a look that said "you seriously can't expect to just leave it at that." But he looked back to the constantly changing images on the screen.

"Bishop believed… When I was a boy… Before Rhone…" Griffin tried to start to explain, but obviously didn't know where to start.

"And just why was it – forbidden for them to fight," Lex repeated what was said in the hall. He would like to hear everything that this guy had to say, but now wasn't really a good time. …When he was a boy?

Griffin hesitated as he tried to make it simple and coherent, "When a child is – gifted, like in art or music, their parents send them to classes or tutors to nurture that skill."

Lex nodded, but didn't look up.

Griffin continued, "But sometimes, the kid is more than gifted. They're a – a prodigy."

Lex looked up at the word.

"Those kids don't go to classes or tutors," he paused to explain the best he could, "It would corrupt their natural gift. It would be detrimental to them to be – limited by other people or by rules or – anything that isn't what they were born with."

Lex looked at Griffin and nodded very slowly. "Bishop believed that Rhone was – is one of those people, but with combat. We were forbidden to fight with her – we might corrupt her. Only he was allowed to train her. And it was," Griffin looked for the right word, "Secretive."

Lex's right eyebrow crept up his forehead, "…And Gell…?" Lex really didn't understand the connection.

"Gell is – was our greatest fighter," Griffin said.

"Jealousy?" Lex offered.

"Not at first," Griffin hesitated, "We don't – get a lot of women on base."

"Rejection," Lex smiled.

Griffin nodded, "A lot of rejection. …We were forbidden to fight her, but she was forbidden to fight us." Griffin continued. "He tried to kill her – more than once. I remember finding him," Griffin held his hands in front of himself, mimicking what he had seen, "Holding her head in a river. She just sat there and took it – never fought back because Bishop told her not to. Bishop and I had more than one disagreement about it – I spent time in the hole over it," Griffin looked back to the fight on the monitor as he spoke.

Lex was going to ask about "the hole," but the look Griffin had on his face said that it was a punishment. He found it hard to believe that she didn't fight back; it seemed so – out of character.

"I always thought it odd that he never tried to…" Griffin implied sex.

Lex furrowed his brow, "Why?"

"I think that – in the back of his mind – he feared," he paused, "That Bishop was right and she was just toying with him – letting him believe that he was the best."

Lex believed that that was more plausible. He didn't know why she wouldn't just kick his ass and have it done with, but he believed in her. "Then what?" Lex asked.

"She started going on missions with Gell. They just started to compete at – at everything. Running, shooting, calculating things, anything you could think of," Griffin shook his head, "I swear to God, Bishop forced them together in anyway possible. He loved to see the limits that Gell could push her to."

Lex got a look of disgust on his face. Perhaps this Bishop wasn't the man that Rhone painted him to be – a great leader. Right now he sounded more like his father.

"It didn't take long until she started beating him at their little games. Occasionally quickly became consistently, which quickly became constantly," Griffin shook his head.

Lex glanced back at the monitor, no change – still beating one another. It was unbelievable. "Do you believe that Bishop was right?" he asked.

"Without a doubt. She…" his voice trailed off.

Lex looked at him, silently urging him to continue.

Griffin shook his head, "Anyway, he kept losing so he stopped playing. She never said anything about it, and I think that pissed him off even more. Just – knowing. And she went on every mission – still does." Griffin stopped to think, "I've been around this for twenty years, and I've never heard of anything like it…"

Lex tilted his head. Twenty years? How old was this guy? He looked like he was in his mid-twenties.

Griffin saw the look – the look that questioned the chronology of his life. Griffin looked to the monitor and narrowed his eyes, "Hey…"

Lex followed his gaze.

He lost his footing and ungracefully took a few steps back. He was taken aback at her skill. He knew it would be no easy task, but defeating her was… She was stronger – no chick was that strong – and faster than he had anticipated. …And she wasn't even winded.

She watched him, his heavy breath moving his shoulders up and down. They were a few yards from one another. "You look," she paused, "Tired, Gell."

"Tired of you," he growled. He looked to his left; the guns and the artist tube were resting on the floor – kicked into a cluster. He turned and ran for them without a second thought. He didn't look at her, only his gun on the floor. He ran full out; he couldn't lose.

He slid to a stop, kneeled over the artist's tube, picked up his gun, and stood in one fluid motion. He turned to her and… She was gone.

She came up behind him. As he bent over, she could see his muscles through his shirt – small patches of sweat making the shirt stick to him. She cringed and looked down. …He was standing over her tube. He was going to see how dirty she could fight. …Try to drown me, you bastard…

As he stood, she bent over and grabbed both ends of the artist's tube that rested on the floor between his legs. Then she stood and brought the tube up as hard as she could, slamming the artist's tube into his groin. He was slightly lifted off the ground with the force.

He doubled over, simply dropping the gun he had picked up with one hand and reaching for his – pain with the other. He wanted to tell her how much he hated her, how low and… If only he could form the words without that squeal at the back of his throat.

Her words interrupted his silent cursing, "I take it back, Gell. You don't look tired, you look – weak."

He turned to see her standing with the tube in one hand in a readied position about five yards from him. Had he really staggered that far? …God, it hurt.

Lex and Griffin both unconsciously gritted their teeth and shifted in position at the assault on Gell's groin. No matter how much you disliked another guy; there was always a – sympathy there.

"Oh, man," Griffin said in a whisper.

"What is she doing?" Lex asked. She was holding the tube like she was going to throw it or something.

"There's this outstanding – challenge," Griffin had to search for the last word.

"What kind of challenge?" Lex emphasized the last word, briefly glancing to the man next to him.

"There was an – episode sometime ago. Rhone did something – incredible…" Griffin didn't know if he should talk about this, "And basically, Gell said that she could never do it again. That it was luck." He checked one more time to make sure that this was being recorded.

"Was it?" Lex asked.

"…I have faith in her," Griffin hesitated, "But – it had to be. No one could do that twice."

Lex finally had to ask, "Do what?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Griffin pointed to the monitor again.


	54. Chapter 54

"Are you really going to risk it with just that?" Gell gestured to the artist's tube in Rhone's hand with his head. He straightened, ignoring the stabbing pain in his nether region. The guns were about four yards from his feet and he glanced tentatively at them. Wasn't he closer before? Oh, slowly walking, doubled over, and holding your family jewels can get you a few feet from where you thought you should be.

"Are you going to risk it with just those?" she looked at the same pile of guns and then the tube in her hands. A smile played across her lips as she used her hand to manipulate some of the concealed buttons on the tube. The first part, you've practiced to perfection. But the second part… Ok, Rhone, all you have to do is relax. She began to psych herself up. If you did it before, you can do it again. Just let your mind go blank, let instinct take over. Trust your intuition – your Spider-sense.

She watched his feet. When she saw his weight shift, she started to run for the wall that stood about thirty feet behind her. She didn't watch him; she knew he was going for the guns.

She threw the artist's tube like a javelin against the wall. As one blunt end of the tube hit its surface, the other end flipped open. A long gleaming shaft of silver was ejected out the open end. A soft but high pitched resonating sound accompanied it – not unlike striking a crystal wine glass with a fork and listening until the noise has almost disappeared. She closed her eyes and waited for it to pass within inches of her right shoulder. …There. She bent her elbow, grabbed the tailing end of the glinting streak, and began to turn.

She heard a gun shot. Shit. She needed a premonition. Where would she be shot – where would she be damaged? That is where the bullet is going – it's trajectory. …Her shoulder. She finished turning and brought the lustrous silver in front of her shoulder.

TING! The sound of a bullet ricocheting. She froze and opened her eyes. Gell was staring at her with an expression that only conveyed shock and disbelief, still pointing the gun at her. She spun the katana in her hand absently; it felt so right to hold it.

"I hope you have a few more in that clip," she said softly.

He squeezed the trigger. She deflected it. He did it again with the same result. Gell looked at the gun in his hand like it had turned into a rubber chicken. "You're a freak," he spat, "I always thought so, but after Paris… No one can do the shit you do. …Taking a header off a ten story building… You're not – you're not human."

…Was he right? Was she not human anymore? If so, was it the job or was it the relic that had taken her humanity from her? …Was it taken, or did she give it? What would Bishop or Sensei say if he knew you were questioning yourself like this? Never let them see you sweat, Rhone. "I can't stand a sore loser," she raised her katana, readying it for combat.

Gell started to back up, letting off a couple of shots as he did so. She deflected them. Was it getting – easier? "Where did you get those guys anyway?" she asked, "Your ill-trained cronies."

"I started training them on my – extended leaves," Gell said, still backing up.

"I guess that would explain their lack of talent," Rhone said. Gell would leave for long periods of time while he was still in her employ. Anyone could, they weren't held there. A lot of the guys took vacations and the like. Sometimes they didn't come back for a month. However, most of them stayed in contact. And after The Louvre, Gell's extended leaves lasted at least that long. …What happened? She told Griffin to watch him. It was just luck that she had sent Griffin here for recon. Something could have happened to Lex – to the civilians.

She wondered where he thought he was going. She realized that the bungee cords were still hanging from the shattered skylight. He knows that I won't shoot him, she mused. She did call all of her guys off the building, but where did he think that he was going after the roof? They were all over the ground, a few snipers set up in surrounding buildings.

Gell had significantly distanced himself from her by the time he reached the bungee cords. She hadn't moved from the position where she had deflected a number of bullets.

He dropped the gun and jumped onto the bungee cord. It wasn't doing him any good anyway. He used his hands and feet, climbing as fast as he could up the cord. She wouldn't shoot him. He knew she wouldn't, she had the sword. Once she got it out, she didn't sheathe it again until – until the end. …No. No one is that good and no one is that lucky. But if that's true, she should have been dead a long time ago. Right? No. Fuck Bishop. Fuck her. He was climbing so hard and so fast that he swore he could feel the lactic acid building in is muscles. He felt the bungee cord move below him. She was on it, coming after him. He pushed harder.

She was running for the bungee cord. She gave the guns on the floor a glance when she ran by them, but dismissed the idea. She didn't really like them that much. Sure she used them, but there was something so much more – personal about the katana. It boasted more skill, more – honor.

She turned the katana so the sharp tip was pointing to the ground and jumped onto the bungee cord. She wrapped her feet beneath her so she wouldn't slide down the cord and began using her free hand to pull herself up.

Who – on God's green earth – in this day and age, carries a sword!?! And she just carries it around like a normal woman would carry a purse or – whatever women carry around with them. Lex knew his face was marred with shock and he didn't care. Luthors weren't allowed to be shocked, but no Luthor had dealt with Rhone Chade. …No, I'm asleep. This isn't real – it's impossible. No one can deflect a bullet with a sword. At least, that's what he thought he saw. It happened so fast…

"Gell's on the roof," a voice came through Lex's head set. He had seen Gell's figure get on the rope that hung from the skylight, but he disappeared off the monitor a little more than what Lex guessed was half way up. He had watched Rhone disappear a short moment ago. She hauled herself up that rope with one hand – fast.

"Can you get a clear shot?" Griffin's voice was beside him as well as in his ear. Lex felt someone grab his arm. …This is real. He looked down; it was Griffin trying to lead him away from the Hummer. He slowly consented after he checked all of the monitors one more time – empty.

A voice responded over the head set, "Negative, but it's a pretty safe bet he knows we're here." After a pause, Lex heard, "Rhone's on the roof."

Griffin just grunted in agreement, but knew his acknowledgement wasn't going to be carried over the frequency on the head sets. He led Lex to a police cruiser that rested horizontally on the steps of the museum. There were a lot of other police cars in no real pattern on the stairs. "I want play-by-play. Awol, bring your guys at the door out – we don't need you there anymore," Griffin put his hand to his ear.

Lex looked up at the roof, but saw nothing. He flexed his numbed fingers, realizing for the first time that it was a very brisk November evening. Maybe it was because all the E.I.F. guys were in t-shirts… At least it didn't seem like all of them carried antique weaponry.

"They're just looking at one another, Griff," someone on the headsets informed them.

Another voice quickly added, "I've got a chopper."

"Ours?" Griffin asked. He dispatched the one the Elites used to find the one man that assisted Gell and had managed to escape. He was in custody, but the local P.D. allowed him to get away.

"No, do you want me to send…?" the voice began.

"No," Griffin shook his head uselessly. It would never make it in time.

Lex watched four guys in all black scatter away from the museum door. A few uniformed officers approached from strewn positions around them. One of them spoke, "How long is this going to go on? You can't close off ten city blocks without arousing some kind of suspicion…"

"Tell your chief that we'll take care of it," Griffin said, never looking away from the roof of the museum.

"Are you sure you won't be too busy trying to find a new commanding officer?" the officer said rudely.

Lex and Griffin both looked to the uniformed officer.

"Let's face it, she jumped into a situation that she didn't have control over and now she is on the roof with only a sword," he emphasized the word only.

A voice came from behind them, "It's a katana." Awol brushed roughly between two officers and stood beside Griffin. He tossed a couple of small items to Lex without looking at him. Surprised, Lex barely caught them. …Rhone needs new friends, he thought bitterly. He pocketed the wallet and cell phone he thought he would never see again.

Griffin gave Awol a harsh glance. Awol gave his best innocent look, "You told us to pull away from the door."

"I don't care if it's Excalibur, she's not winning this," the officer pointed to the roof.

Awol stepped toward the officer menacingly. The officer looked frightened, as did the rest of his colleagues, but he held his position. Awol looked at the officer like he was gum on the bottom of his shoe, and then looked him up and down. Finally, Awol said, "What kind of odds you got on that?"

Lex's eyes went wide. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? He looked to Griffin to put an end to this. Instead, he saw Griffin – the guy that was supposed to be in command, setting some kind of example – reach for his back pocket and pull out his wallet. Lex's mouth fell open slightly.

Lex watched them take bets on whether or not Rhone would live. "You want in on this?" Griffin turned to him.

"No, I think it's disgusting," Lex informed him. There were others filtering over and placing bets, both secret military and not.

Griffin smiled and pulled Lex to the side, "You know her."

"That's precisely why it's wrong," Lex began. "I can see those guys doing it," he pointed to the uniformed officers, "But you are…" He didn't even know how to finish his rant.

"Easy money," Griffin said, "All of us are betting on her, not against her." Griffin looked around, but no one was paying attention to them, "You saw what she did in there." Griffin's face changed to one of someone that cared but wasn't supposed to. "She's saved us all more times than I can count," he allowed himself a light smile, "I should tell you about the first time that I met her."

Lex still only looked partially convinced with Griffin, "I'd like to hear it." He looked to the small huddle of gamblers.

Griffin nodded, "We bet on her because we believe in her." Lex looked at him. Griffin smiled, "And if we didn't, she'd kick our asses."

Lex remained expressionless and approached the small group, leaving Griffin to watch him. He heard Awol say to an officer, "Listen, I know you've got doughnut money, so either you're in or you're out…" Lex turned back to Griffin when he reached the edge of the group, looking thoughtful. He turned back to the group, hand reaching for the wallet in his pocket.


	55. Chapter 55

Rhone had heard the helicopter approaching from the moment she pulled herself onto the roof. Gell had turned to stare back when he was only a few yards away from the edge of the building. She stared long and hard at Gell thinking about – old times. …The way he touched Lex. She wasn't going to let him get away.

"Trying to make your escape from the front of the building? You really don't listen, do you?" she finally said.

He gestured around him, "More cover." At the right noise level, he looked over his shoulder and saw a helicopter lowering behind him.

She knew Griffin would tell the snipers not to fire. There would be too many people below if the helicopter went down and hit them… Not to mention the mess. Working at home definitely had its disadvantages. …How did he get a helicopter without their knowledge? If Griffin had gotten such information, he would have told her…

"I guess I'll have to wait until I see you in hell," Gell sneered and turned to run for the helicopter that was hovering just beyond the ledge of the building.

"You're not getting away," she said stoically, despite her distance from him and the noise of the helicopter making it impossible for him to hear her. It had already been decided, there really wasn't anything she could do about it.

She aimed the point of her katana down and started to sprint after him. He jumped and landed on the helicopter just before it began to veer away from the building.

She reached the edge of the building and showed no signs of slowing. As she pushed off the edge of the building, she brought her sword up.

Everyone on the ground had their heads turned up, watching the helicopter above them. It was like watching a legion of simple country folk gazing at fireworks. They saw a figure jump a small gap between the building and the helicopter. From the build and the attire, they knew it was Gell. The craft immediately began to move horizontally away from the building.

Not that much information was coming over the head sets; everyone must have been just watching and waiting. Before he saw it, Lex knew it was her.

When the helicopter was about fifteen feet from the building, another figure came over the ledge of the building. Despite the sporadic lighting, there was a glint of silver. Then the figure hit the side of the helicopter and – stuck there.

Lex heard Griffin speak into his head set, "Tell Bones to be ready."

She plunged her katana into the side of the helicopter, just behind the open sliding door. Rhone knew its – unusual properties would allow it. It had gone through some pretty unbelievable things.

Gell spun to look at her when the sword pierced the helicopter. He reached for the frame of the helicopter door with one hand and went to grab her with the other. She grasped his collar when he came close enough. She clutched her sword with one hand and Gell with the other, no emotion on her features. She brought her feet up to the side of the helicopter and pushed.

Gell's face contorted to one of fear. By now they were four stories up, was she insane? …Yes. He forgot about beating her and grabbed the door frame that he hung out of with his other hand – remembering that living was more important.

In the end, the power of her entire body won. They were in a free fall from the helicopter. She still held the sword and his collar. The world went silent, not even the helicopter or the rushing wind registered in her mind. Silence. She found it odd that even a free fall didn't bother her. She managed to rotate their bodies so he was beneath her; he was too panicked to think or react. His only concern was the roof of the parked police cruiser that was rushing toward them. It was probable that it would be his last concern.

There was a heart-wrenching crunch as the falling figures hit the roof of the police cruiser. The siren made a long and low sound that could be likened to a dying animal. The few uniformed officers that were near held up their arms to shield their faces from shards of window glass. They were already backing off.

Lex started to run to the cruiser. He didn't think about it, but he never ran to get anywhere. Sure he worked out, but… Griffin passed him – damn guy probably runs around the entire city as a warm up. All the other black clad soldiers were running to the cruiser as well, while all the officers were backing up. …It seemed like he would never reach his destination, time holding him down. Maybe it was how fast those other guys were running that made him feel that way. …He couldn't see anything – couldn't see her.

Griffin reached the police cruiser first. He grabbed the edge of the crushed roof with his right hand – he vaguely felt pain – and brought his left foot onto the ledge as well. His right foot followed of its own accord.

Lex was a few yards away when he saw Griffin just stop as he balanced himself on the edge of the car. The other guys in black stood and waited in silence. Lex slowed as he came up behind Awol, staring at Griffin's back.

Then she stood. Everyone watched her as her rigid frame rose over Griffin's crouched figure as though she didn't just fall from a helicopter, but had been insulted by some rude comment over tea and crumpets. She bent for a moment and when she came back up, she had her katana in her hand.

She vaguely realized that she had lost her sunglasses in the fall. She had thin cuts all over her arms – mostly champagne glass related, but other than that she felt alright. It was nothing a good meditation wouldn't fix. She looked up at the helicopter – it was high. Well, it should have been high for a normal person. But she landed on Gell – who was now mostly a kind of paste on her shoes and covering her front. So, depending on the physics of everything, it was plausible that she would be without any major injuries. She looked to Griffin, "Are you going to do something about that, or do I have to go back up there?" She pointed up to the helicopter that just now started moving again – the pilot had obviously taken time out to watch her little show.

Griffin made a motion with his left hand and one of the elite soldiers took off toward the members of the Metropolis Police Department. Griffin allowed his feet to return to the ground. He stood up straight and held his hands up to her, to help her down.

She looked down at him and his hand. He had some cuts on it, probably from hoisting himself onto the side of the car. She snatched his wrist and held it, "You're hurt. You should get Bones to look at it."

"After he's done giving you a full screen," Griffin said.

She let go of him and independently jumped down from the car, "Unnecessary."

He had to admit to himself that she did look fine – a little messy… It was amazing. He decided that he didn't care. He knew how she was, "No way, and I already told Bones to stand by."

"I swear, Griff, it's like being married without the sex," she shook her head and brushed past him, walking back toward the museum again. Griffin started to follow her.

More than a little pleased with that revelation, Lex hardly noticed the sound of the helicopter receding. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. The fighting, the sword, deflecting bullets, the helicopter, falling onto the police cruiser, just getting up and walking away… He blinked hard and shook his head quickly. Did she do this kind of thing all the time? No one else looks completely shocked. He looked at the small dissipating crowd of soldiers around him. …They were impressed, but it was business as usual. The uniformed officers, however, looked like they were about three seconds from loosing bladder control.

"Hey, Armani," a voice said from beside him. He looked and, as expected, it was Awol. The man peeled some bills off a large roll of green and shoved it towards Lex. "Griffin must have told you the rule of thumb," he said, not bothering to hide his relative distaste for the billionaire.

"What's that?" Lex took his winnings and looked at them. He didn't normally gamble – not like this anyway. It's not like he needed the money. But this time he bet high and won – a lot. Was he wrong doing what he did – betting on her like that? Griffin made it sound like some kind of duty for people that believed she was – that believed in her. Lex decided to just never mention it. It wouldn't be lying…

"Never bet against Rhone Chade," Awol said simply. He turned on his heels having no desire to speak any further.

"What did my father do to you?" Lex asked. Maybe he could make it right somehow – this guy was a friend of Rhone's after all. However, it normally didn't work out that way no matter how hard he tried.

Awol stopped and turned to him. "Listen, I could give you some speech about – people like you. How with all that I have seen and done, all I have found is that despite the high thread count sheets and the priceless art – or whatever the fuck you people spend it on, you're still worthless," he stopped for a moment, "But if you hurt her again…"

Lex's face turned passive at "people like you." He had heard the rant before, Jonathon Kent being the last that it had come from. However, he had even managed to do it a little more nicely – most likely for Clark's sake. He blinked at Awol's last statement. Had he really hurt Rhone? He thought she would be angry, but hurt? I'm such an ass; he ran his hand over his head and looked to the ground for a moment.

Awol caught Lex's flinch, "A lot of people think that because I'm the funny guy and I like to dick around that I don't hear things – that I don't see things – that I'm stupid." He remembered listening to Griffin talk to her in a hushed voice in the observation room – it took priority of the day's discussion over chimps in human clothing. He remembered the way his commanding officer had acted upon her return to the base from her little invoice auditing escapade. Isolated. Griffin looking at her like he was concerned about her even though – for once – she hadn't done anything that would put her in physical danger.

"You seem pretty protective over someone that can obviously take care of herself," Lex said coolly.

"I owe her my life a dozen times over," he thought for a moment, "She saved me, had faith in me when everyone else…"

Lex got the feeling that it was more than something on the battlefield. He liked to know things, and he knew that these guys had a lot to tell. Unfortunately, most of them seemed less than willing to share.


	56. Chapter 56

She slid her katana into her artist's tube and put it on her back. Then she picked up her headset and placed it back on her head.

"Rhone, you should get back to base so Bones can…" Griffin had been talking like this since she got out of the Gell puddle. She had said no, and that was it.

"What I should do is find out why this was a total surprise," she gestured to the museum around them and its relative state of disarray. They were alone so she decided now was as good a time as any to talk about this – she didn't like public reprimands.

He looked up at the broken skylight. He knew this was coming. He was kind of hoping to put it off – permanently. He normally didn't fail. He normally…

"What happened? I refuse to believe that he was too good for us," she emphasized the word he. Gell was a traitor, no better than anyone else they fought against. How had he managed to do this in their backyard?

Griffin shifted his gaze from the ceiling to the floor.

He never behaved this way, Rhone observed. She told him to watch Gell – but he had made it sound as though he didn't view him as a threat… "Did you even have anyone on it?" she asked blatantly.

"I did," he finally looked at her, "I told you that I would put D on it." And he did…

"What priority?" her voice raised an octave and she narrowed her eyes at him. It was meant as more of a rhetorical question.

His eyes were on the ground again.

"Griffin?" she stepped closer to him and put both hands on his shoulders.

"Eight," he said softly. He truly didn't believe that Gell was going to be a problem – that he was retired and that was it. He had never heard of a traitor at all, let alone one after retirement… At the time, he thought she was overreacting.

"Eight?" she asked almost in disbelief. She lowered her hands to her sides.

"I know that you said…" Griffin was trying to explain.

She turned her back to him and looked at the white marble wall. Her right hand wrapped around the watch on her left wrist, "Just so I know, did you ever – in all those years – give anything Bishop said a priority eight?" The scale went from one to ten, one being the highest. They used it when determining the level of research or attention something should get – a method of prioritizing.

They both knew the answer to that was no. If the EX-O wanted research on anything – be it where to get the best Chinese food to the production of illegal arms, it should at least be a six.

"And what the hell is with you letting civilians remain in a restricted area?" he knew she meant Lex. She was talking loudly, assertively but not yelling.

"He was worried about you," Griffin said to her back. He didn't think she was angry. He had never really seen her truly livid. He asked her about it once and she said that she didn't like the idea of losing control – something that, at the moment, he was quite thankful for.

She paused for a moment, "Did he tell you that?" She really wished it wasn't absolutely necessary for her to know that. She decided not to think about it – or how pathetic it was.

Griffin paused, "Well, not exactly."

Of course not, Rhone thought cynically. She thought of Victoria Hardwick and how attractive she was. Victoria looked right standing next to Lex – she could stand next to Lex. Rhone assured herself that she didn't deserve such a position. …Something was wrong with her eyes, they stung. Maybe she should see Bones for a once over. She cleared her head. "How in the hell did he get a chopper without us seeing it?" she asked in a tone that told Griffin she wasn't going to hold it against him, more wondering out loud.

"It's my fault," he started, "If you think you need to – rearrange the hierarchy of our organization, I understand. I – I really screwed up…"

She could tell that he felt terrible – he was trained to follow orders and never to accept failure from a very young age. She could hear it in his voice. "Save your self-loathing for the chicks you try to pity into the sack. We won, that's all that matters. No casualties," she turned to him, "Only minor property damage. All in all, a good day." Well, no important casualties anyway.

He shook his head and smiled softly. If he were serving under Bishop and this had happened…

She interrupted the thought, "And what about the other guys that came with Gell?" She had taken her head set off and didn't want any loose ends.

He debated lying, but decided that since it seemed he was getting off basically scot-free that he shouldn't push it. "All of them except one are in the custody of the M.P.D. Oh and there are the two you took down when you – made your appearance," he said looking at the skylight.

"And the other?" she asked with a sideways glance as they began for the door of the museum again.

"I dispatched the chopper – he's on the run," he said.

"Really," she said in a tone that said the night might not be over.

To deter any more heart attack inducing behavior from her this evening, he put his had to his ear. He said, "Thaxx, status."

There was a fair amount of background noise from the helicopter, but Thaxx's voice came over the headsets. His voice sounded almost board, "He's on the freeway – amateur. Anyway, there was enough P.D. air and ground to follow O.J.'s Bronco like ten times. So, I left it to them and I'm damn near on top of you. How's that for service?"

Rhone smiled and touched her headset, "Screw the military, Thaxx. I think I'm going to buy you a red coat so you can start a freelance valet service."

Lex saw her walk out the museum door as she spoke.

Awol's voice came over the headsets, "I can see it now, Thaxx. You could call it Thaxxi's Taxies."

Lex smiled when a chorus of men started saying how bad the pun was. Every workplace must have their Gabe Sullivan. …Although Gabe didn't speak to him the way Awol did.

Rhone's voice came over the headset, "They're right, Awol, that really was horrible. Griff, where's my gun?"

He could hear the helicopter getting close. There were some chuckles around him, responding to Rhone's comment. Lex watched a couple of people walk up to her. She was walking in his direction, but not really looking at him. He wanted to talk to her and solidify that they were – okay. They hadn't actually spoken since she had left the Plant. And he really didn't know if she truly understood the necklace, it having been promptly returned with a note that didn't specifically say that they were still – friends or maybe…

She was walking toward him, still not looking at him. By now, Lex was wondering if she was deliberately ignoring him. Griffin was walking beside her, a look of intense relief on his face. She was in her element.

"Nix, I want you and D on damage control," Rhone was within earshot now, speaking loudly instead of using the headsets.

A helicopter landed in the street and a number of soldiers headed for it. Rhone passed closely to Lex. She didn't touch him, passing very closely. But without even the slightest acknowledgement – her face turned from him completely, it seemed that if he were a few inches to the left, she would have just plowed right into him.

A few uniformed officers walked up to her from the side and one put a hand on her shoulder, "Hey! You can't just leave this mess. There are witnesses to…"

She stopped dead in her tracks and looked at the hand on her shoulder. Then she looked at the owner of the hand. Lex noticed that the officer flinched when he looked into her eyes. "Listen," she looked at him intensely, "You're new. And I won today, so you get that for free." She grabbed his wrist and squeezed it hard as she removed it from her person – she was careful not to actually damage him.

The officer's knees bent a little at the sudden pain, "Ah…" He tried to pull his wrist away but was unsuccessful.

She bent closely to his ear, "If you ever try anything even remotely like that again, I will make sure that you hurt – everywhere – all at the same time." She abruptly released his wrist and he took a few defensive steps backward. "Like I would leave this up to some inept police force, anyway. It's handled," she continued her walk to the helicopter.

Lex felt an air of tension relax around him. He looked at the soldiers around him; most of them were holstering firearms. He hadn't even noticed they were drawn in the first place. He realized that they would have killed that officer for looking at her the wrong way during that little exchange – not that she couldn't handle it herself. Their loyalty was second to nothing that he had ever seen. A smile tugged at his lips; she should go into politics.

Lex shook his head and started after her. He wasn't just going to let her leave, although he wasn't really sure if she were angry or just focused. A hand came up in front of him, impeding his forward motion. He heard a familiar voice – yelling over the helicopter, "That's as far as you go, Armani. And no, you can't buy a ticket any farther." Awol didn't look at Lex, just watched Rhone heading for the helicopter.

Lex allowed his voice to reach a yell – he could always just say it was the noise of the helicopter that made him, "Are you always like this?"

"Honest?" Awol asked disdainfully.

Rhone's voice came over the headset, "Awol, get your ass over here."

Lex watched Awol jog to the helicopter Rhone was just stepping onto. From her position on the platform, Rhone bent and grabbed Awol's headset with both hands. It wasn't forceful, more in the way that football coaches grab players to get their attention. Lex watched her look into Awol's eyes and speak. Then Awol shifted, he didn't like what Rhone had just said. She spoke for a few moments as most of the other guys piled onto the helicopter. Then Awol nodded, despite her hands on his headset.

Rhone let go of Awol and Lex heard her say, "Alright," over the headset. The helicopter started to lift, leaving Awol on the ground staring at it.

When the helicopter was about fifteen feet in the air, Lex heard Rhone's voice on the headset, "Hey."

Reflexively, he looked up at the helicopter again. She was standing erect in the door of the helicopter, one hand to her ear, looking right at him.

He didn't know how to talk into the headset. He was sure that it was just a push of a button on the ear. He never took his eyes off of her as fumbled for it, but couldn't find it. Her voice came again, "I'll see you soon." He gave up on the headset and just nodded. He held up his hand in a small wave and immediately began to chastise himself for lameness of the gesture. She nodded once and turned. The helicopter continued its ascent.

Awol approached him with an exasperated look on his face, taking off his head set. Lex realized that nothing more was probably going to happen and followed suit. Lex really hoped this guy didn't have anymore speeches about the upper class left in him.

"Let's go," Awol said as he reached Lex.

Lex blinked, "Excuse me?"

"Did you give any thought as to how you were going to get home with this place quarantined like a bad virus movie?" Awol said.

Lex really hadn't. He reached for the cell phone in his breast pocket.

Awol smiled and laughed lightly, "Good luck. You can call your limo but they'll never get in here. And you won't get out without a lot of bullshit."

"Is that what you came over here for?" Lex asked annoyed. This guy was Rhone's friend – for reasons he couldn't fathom, but he was beginning to get pretty fed up with his attitude and rude comments.

"No," Awol looked at the ground and sighed. "Come on," he took out a set of keys and gestured with his head to a police barricade a few blocks away.


	57. Chapter 57

Lex couldn't believe that he was getting into Awol's Camaro. However, the thought of spending the night trying to get through the police red tape sounded even less appealing. Awol had gone through the authorities with relative ease; there was a reference to pork followed by something about killing all of their families in their sleep and another reference to pork.

Lex stopped abruptly before he got in the car, "I can just call for a ride from here, thanks." He wondered why it took until he had gotten to the Camaro for the thought to occur to him.

"No you can't," Awol got into the car and shut the door. The engine started with Lex still standing outside.

Why not? A look of curiosity marred Lex's features. He checked his phone; he was getting a good signal. What the hell did he mean by that? Damn his endless curiosity. He took the door handle and got in the car. When he shut the door, he asked, "Why can't I?"

Awol put the car into drive without giving any thought to the uniformed officers on foot around them. Fortunately, most of them got away unscathed. "Because," he exhaled loudly, "I have specific orders to take you home and to make sure you get there safe and sound. I'm even supposed to offer to tuck you in."

Lex chuckled, "I think that is going to be unnecessary." Lex had a vision of Awol fluffing one of his pillows before slowly bringing it down over his face. His smile faded. "Did she say anything else?" Lex was trying to be discrete.

"Oh, you know, just making me see that I'm horribly wrong with one freakin' observation," he shook his head.

Lex nodded, he knew the feeling. "What were you wrong about?" although he did have an idea.

Awol gave him a sideways glance. He paused for a moment, "Sins of the father and all that crap. Where would I be if she had judged me like that when she didn't even know me?"

Lex could tell that this was a vague and poor attempt at an apology. He didn't really know if it was honest one or a direct order. "Where would you be?" Lex looked at him for a moment. He wanted the story – a Rhone Chade story – and perhaps with this current state of remorse in the air, he might get it.

"At best, prison," Awol stared ahead as he steered the car along the road. He knew Lex was looking at him again. "I'm no criminal," he added. Lex nodded silently. "I'm not," Awol reaffirmed, his voice slightly more elevated.

Lex knew he had this guy. "You know you have to get on the expressway," Lex seemingly changed the subject.

"I know where I'm going," Awol sneered. He guided his car onto the on-ramp. There was a long pause, "It was a little over a year ago."

He sat on the bench, dress uniform starched and ironed to perfection. He held his hands out in front of him for a moment; he had never seen his own hands shake so much. He flexed his fingers and returned his hands to the uniform hat in his lap. He was running through all the charges in his head. How in the hell had it turned into treason and espionage? And because of that, some counts of first degree murder – just incase. He thought about running, but where would he go? Where could he go?

He stared at the flawless black of his shoes. He felt like he was going to be sick. Sure, this wasn't an official hearing, but he had to be realistic. If he went to trial, he was guilty. And then… He swallowed hard.

He looked up. Through the few people that were walking by, his gaze fell on a woman across the room in all black staring out one of the windows. He knew the scene outside was like his future, dim and cloudy. Her hair was pulled back tight and she stood completely still. If he wasn't so sure that this was the end of him, he might have gone over to talk to her. …How in the hell did she get in here? This was a military building. And she is wearing street clothes and a pair of sunglasses. He looked at what she had on her back – some kind of architect?

She never moved, just standing with her hands folded behind her back. Something about her made him stare. At least it was taking his mind off of things.

The clouds parted outside, sending a shaft of yellow sunlight onto her. Then she moved; she turned her head to look directly at him. At least he thought she was looking at him, the sunglasses made it a little hard to tell.

She started toward him, trench coat trailing behind her. He quickly cast his eyes to his shoes again. He hadn't meant to stare. Suddenly, someone was sitting next to him on the otherwise empty bench. It was her.

He put his hat on, "Forgive me, Ma'am. I was…"

"Staring at me," she finished. She hadn't looked at him, just staring straight ahead.

"There was a lot on my mind and I…" he began. He tried to see what she was looking at in front of them but was unsuccessful.

"The trial," she interrupted.

"It's not a trial, it's just an inquiry," he said looking at her stoic face.

"Whatever, you just cling to that," she said without emotion.

He knew the truth as well as she did. What was happening to him was pretty public. He was sure that she recognized him – damn media. At least like every other scandal, he would be forgotten six months after it was over. Unfortunately, over was his death – he was about 99 sure of that. "It's all I have," he said searching her face for – anything.

For the first time, she turned to face him. He turned away, but she took his chin with her hand and made him face her. He could tell that she was searching his face. She furrowed her brow, "You didn't do it. It's not your fault."

How did she know that by just looking at him? Sure, he denied it before – a lot, but no one believed him. Not with his service record. He was beginning to think that his family didn't even believe him. "And just how do you know that?" he asked bitterly to hide that he was tearing up.

"I can see it in you," she said plainly. She dropped her hand from his chin.

A woman, most likely a secretary of one of the high ranking generals that had offices here, walked up to them – heels clicking on the floor. "Ms. Chade," was all she said.

The woman beside him stood up gracefully. She looked down at him one last time, "Good luck, Jason. I hope that things work out for you." The look on her face told him that she knew it wouldn't. No one on earth could help him now.

"Now, Mr. Wilson, this is just an inquiry regarding the incident that transpired on March 16 of this year," A man in his fifties was saying from behind the long table.

He wondered if it was necessary that he be so far from the table. Maybe it was better that he was sitting in this lone chair in the middle of an empty room. He had a feeling he didn't want to be close to that table with fifteen aging generals on one side. He nodded silently.

"This isn't your first inquiry, is it, Mr. Wilson?" another asked.

"No, Sir," he found his voice. However, none of them were even remotely as important or serious as this one.

In unison, all of the generals opened manila folders that rested in front of them.

"Your service has been – less than exemplary," the one in the center spoke as he looked down, "You don't think the rules apply to you. …Practical jokes on comrades and even commanding officers and a – distaste for authority. Why would you even join the military?"

He knew that last question was rhetorical and that he definitely shouldn't say what was on the tip of his tongue. Why shouldn't he? It's not like it would make a difference anyway. They already have their minds made up.

Another general spoke, "Excluding those facts, I'll be honest, it doesn't look good, Jason." He was rifling through some papers, "You destroyed a multi-million dollar prototype as well as the other men in the vehicle. …How did you even get on this project?"

He realized that he should answer this one, "Downsizing." One simple word that he thought was so great when he was assigned to the project.

All the men at the table shook their heads. The man in the center spoke again, "The reports from the producer of your supposed faulty part have come in." He reached to put on a pair of reading glasses and read a letter that he held out in front of him, "General Norris, it is with great pride that I inform you that a thorough investigation of the process and part in question has revealed no deficiency in either. I look forward to continuing our mutually beneficial and profitable business relationship. Sincerely, Lionel Luthor, CEO Luthor Corporation." He looked up and took off his reading glasses as he set the letter on his pile of papers.

"What about the complaint I filed, questioning the part over two months before the incident?" he said. It was all he had -- his only card to play.

"Mr. Wilson," one of the generals spoke as he shook his head, "There is no record of any complaint."

"What? I filed that report and I spoke with my commanding officer about…" he started to defend.

"The commanding officer that is now dead?" one of them asked.

Jason bowed his head, "Well, yes, but then how…?"

"You do realize that we have evidence that not only could point to espionage, but to treason as well? And thus the murder of those that accompanied you?" General Norris asked.

He didn't know how they even had that kind of evidence; the only people he talked to were his parents and his sister. There was a pang in his chest; he really missed them.

And what happened to his complaint? There must have been some kind of conspiracy – and he was the fall guy. It had to be the fucking "mutually beneficial and profitable relationship" with Luthor Corp. That was all it could be. No one else had anything to lose.

General Norris continued when he didn't respond, "It is the recommendation of this council that you…"

The double doors behind him opened abruptly. Jason turned to the interruption. It was – the woman that was in the lobby? She still had her hands on the double doors, making her trench coat fan out behind her. He heard chairs move and feet shuffle at the table of generals behind him, but he continued to stare at the woman. Poor chick, they were going to call security and…

"Sir," was a chorus of men behind him. …What? He looked back to them and they were – saluting? He looked back to the woman. She walked forward. When she reached Jason's lone chair she put a hand under his arm and pulled up. He reluctantly stood – unable to fathom the saluting men at the table, but she maintained her hold.

"He's innocent," was all she said.

"Perhaps we can talk about this – in private," Norris gestured for her to have a meeting with them at their long table.

Jason felt a pull on his arm; she was pulling him through the door. "Can you do this?" he was clumsily backing up in her direction.

She smiled a closed lipped smile, but only looked to the door from which she had come.

"You do realize that a multi-million dollar piece of machinery was lost. Someone has to answer for…" one of the men started to speak.

She turned on her heels and walked to the center of the room, leaving Jason near the door. She shook her head and in a professional voice said, "A freak accident claimed the life of Jason Wilson this morning. Wilson – facing charges of espionage, murder, and treason – was hit by falling ceiling tile. The fall was attributed to the general decay of military installations throughout the nation – a result of budget cuts forced on the military from Capitol Hill. And now, over to Marty with the weather."

The men at the table looked at one another. Jason saw the looks on their faces – they were putting to bed a huge loss in research, avoiding dealing with the blame – totally scandal free, as well as bringing attention to their need for more funding.

She folded her hands behind her back once more and started for the door. She stopped and held out a hand to Jason as she passed him. It felt like his heart stopped beating and he took it.


	58. Chapter 58

"And thus I became the paragon of military perfection that you see before you," Awol said as he pulled up to the pristine building that held Lex's penthouse.

Lex couldn't help but smile a little. Lex didn't know what to say, so he just sat there. His father really had screwed this guy over. Not that he was that surprised, there was a line around the block for that one. He didn't doubt that his father had the complaint Awol filed – misplaced as well.

Awol noticed Lex was still sitting in his car. …He wasn't leaving. "You really aren't going to make me tuck you in, are you?" Awol crinkled up his face.

"No, no," Lex was pleased that their – interactions had at least become more pleasant. "I wasn't always so involved with my father's company. At the time you are talking about I was kind of…" Lex trailed off.

"On a bender?" Awol finished for him.

"In a self destructive phase," Lex corrected.

"Whatever," Awol smiled.

"If – there's anything I can do to make up for happened to you," Lex said.

Damn it, Lex Luthor really wasn't that bad. That foiled Awol's plans of being a jerk to him. "This is such bull shit," Awol said under his breath.

Yet another Luthor apology unaccepted Lex thought as he shook his head.

"I was totally going to hate you. And I was doing a good job too," Awol leaned his head back in his seat, "I'm too nice."

"Is that your way of accepting?" Lex said coolly, but was pleased that for once he had possibly started to make things right. …Only potentially thousands to go…

"It means that I'll think about it," Awol knew his tone betrayed that he had already decided to accept. Damn it.

"I guess I can't ask for anymore," Lex smiled and opened the car door.

"I still hate your father," Awol made it sound like he was giving some witty retort to an insult, like he was getting the last word in an argument.

"That makes two of us," Lex got out of the car.

Lex slowly sat on his bed. He placed his elbows on his knees and leaned to lace his fingers behind his head. He was vaguely aware that the disheveled tuxedo he was wearing to some extent constricted his movements – the doorman looked at him like he used to when Lex came back to the penthouse after a hard night of partying. Sadly, Lex preferred that people think that is what happened. No one would believe what really transpired.

It was still pretty dark in his room although it was – getting early. He closed his eyes anyway. He relived her falling through the air and hitting the police cruiser. He flinched on impact, that noise was so atrocious. He considered how scared – yeah, Dad, scared – he was. How he didn't even think about being scared, he just ran. He couldn't get there fast enough – couldn't get to her fast enough.

…Not to mention jumping through the skylight in the first place. …The helicopter was only a little higher and she didn't have anything to – land on then. And it didn't even faze her. In a way, he wished that Griffin didn't push him down so he could have watched her descend like a comic book superhero. Maybe that was why her comics were so good, first hand experience.

And then there was the sword – katana. She never even mentioned anything about a penchant for that kind of weaponry. Penchant? No, someone with a penchant for medieval Eastern weaponry knows how to do a few stances, maybe has a little collection. …She deflected a bullet with it. No, she deflected bullets with it – plural. He moved his hands over his eyes, keeping his elbows on his knees.

He remembered asking her if she took the artist's tube everywhere, her saying yes, him asking why, her saying that she never knew when she might need it. …He really thought it had art supplies in it. He thought hard; she never actually lied about what was in that tube. She never said what was or wasn't in it, she just let him assume. She had a way of doing that. …She wore the tube everywhere but at his house. He considered that for a moment and felt slightly uplifted.

All of the things that happened tonight at the museum, and none of her men thought it was – out of the ordinary. However, only he and Griffin had seen the bullet thing. …Griffin seemed like a decent guy. And now that he knew that Griffin and Rhone had never been – intimate, perhaps he was more than decent. Keeping a professional relationship under such conditions was – commendable.

…Wait. Wasn't it Griffin's little hand gesture that got him literally carried out of the museum and laughed at by Victoria Hardwick? …Did Rhone see that? Of course she did. Even though he was alone, heat rose to his cheeks. How mortifying. No wonder she didn't talk to me. Her evening consists of stunts worthy of Warrior Angel himself and I – I was carried like a small child out of daycare.

He stood and walked over to the window. He didn't know what time it was, but outside his window, the world was turning the ethereal blue of way too early in the morning. His mind drifted to how long, "I'll see you soon," meant. Before tonight – last night, they hadn't seen or spoken to one another in a little more than a month. A thought that was no more than a minute from his mind since she left. Did that mean she was coming to see him or she was just going to try and keep him out of any more trouble? Well, at least it would give Clark some much needed time off, he thought with a chuckle - Clark and that thing that had saved him when Gell pushed him off The Metropolis Plaza.

He had almost forgotten about it in all the excitement. The information on that, if there was any, wasn't coming as fast as he liked. He had requested it almost immediately after it had happened and still nothing. …It was something that he was being even more discrete about than usual. He would have to sift through more things himself this time. He was worried if he asked too specifically – well, he didn't want to ask too specifically.

He turned and looked at his bed – its monochromatic comforter of browns pulled tightly against the mattress. Maybe he would be able to sleep after all that had happened. …Probably not. He had been through more, been even more exhausted and insomnia still won.

He turned back to the window. He reached into his pants and breast pocket, pulled out his wallet and cell phone, and set them on the bureau beside the window. He did the same with his watch, but first he looked at it – he almost lost it. Clark's luck was definitely rubbing off on him; the corners of his mouth turned up into a faint smile.

He raised his hands to his chest, and ran them down his front – checking for anything that might be slipping his mind. He hit a lump. It was in the right waist pocket of his blazer. He furrowed his brow; he didn't normally put anything in there… He reached his hand in; it was cool and metal. It was…

He pulled it out. It was a watch. He held it up to what little light the dim window offered. It was Rhone's watch. He would know it anywhere, silver band and a completely digital face. He looked at it closer; it wasn't silver or white gold. He hefted it in his hand – too light. He would have to look at it in better light.

…How did he get this? He remembered her passing close to him as she made her way to the helicopter. She never looked at him. He thought he was totally unnoticed. He smiled – she must have slipped it to him. …Did she touch him? He didn't feel it if she did – like a master thief. His smile faded. She probably didn't, she made such an effort not to. Maybe she thought he was dishonorable or something. He reached his hand to his head. She wouldn't be the first one. It was ironic because she was one of the few that he actually cared about what she thought.

A problem occurred to him. He looked to the watch his mother gave him, laying in the bureau. He picked it up and held one watch in each hand.

"Lex?" Clark peered through the double doors of Lex's home office.

"Delivering the produce a little early this week?" Lex looked up from the papers on his desk.

Clark smiled a little and shook his head, "I heard about what happened to you at the museum in Metropolis – I wanted to make sure you were okay." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. It was tough to be a guy and express – concern for another guy. …He wished he could have been there to help, but he didn't find out about it until it was more than over.

"Bad news travels fast," Lex paused for a moment and knitted his brow, "Even my father called – and with no good P.R. to be had." He shook his head softly and leaned his elbows on his desk. It was a – peculiar conversation. Lionel even didn't blame Lex for allowing things he had no control over. He only wanted a detailed account of what had happened. Lex decided to back up what was in the police reports and in the media – that there was an attempted robbery and The Metropolis P.D. and S.W.A.T. took care of the perpetrators.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Clark asked as he took his usual seat across from Lex.

"A lot happened on that trip," Lex understated. Should he tell Clark about being saved from the fall? It was – unbelievable. But if he could tell anyone, he could tell Clark – or Rhone. He remembered telling Clark about how he flew when the farm boy had saved him from his sinking Porsche… Maybe he would keep it to himself for now.

Clark knew that voice, Lex was leaving something out. And he had a kind of far away look in his eyes. "Like what?" Clark knitted his brow.

Lex paused for a moment, "I – saw Rhone."

Clark's entire face lit up like a hundred flood lights and he leaned forward, "And?"

If Lex didn't know Clark better, he would have thought the boy's mind just might have gone to the gutter. But, this was Clark. He probably wanted to hear that he and Rhone held hands. …I wish, Lex thought bitterly.

"We really didn't get to talk," Lex said flatly.

Clark felt a blush come to his cheeks and he rubbed his hands on his knees. He should have known that a guy as suave as Lex…

Lex sighed at Clark's assumption. Is that how everyone saw him? Hadn't it been his track record thus far? Did he give anyone a reason to think otherwise about him – his relationships? …No. …Well, not yet. "We," Lex realized that Rhone's occupation was something she guarded closely and she had trusted him, "Just happened to run into each other for a minute." It wasn't a lie - technically.

"Just long enough for her to give you her watch?" Clark asked as he gestured toward Lex's wrist. Clark had noticed Rhone's watch the day they met; she wore it every time he saw her. He only noticed because it was a man's watch – larger than a woman's.

Lex looked down at his wrist as well. He had faced a dilemma when he got another sentimental gift that was a watch – the inscription on Rhone's watch told him that. Which of the two sentimental watches would he chose over the other meaningless hundreds that he had? It had always been so easy – the Napoleon Frank watch that his mother gave him. …He had decided to wear Rhone's watch Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and every other Sunday. And he would wear the one his mother gave him on the other days. Of course he didn't express this strategy out loud or really even think about it, but he was quite conscious of the plan – recognizing that it could be considered juvenile despite its effectiveness.

Lex looked up at Clark and with all honesty said, "Basically."


	59. Chapter 59

"Rhone?" a voice from behind her said – it echoed slightly in the large room.

She turned in her chair and faced the voice. He was running a hand through his short dark red hair and holding a newspaper. She relaxed in her chair, "What's up, D?"

D looked around; there were a few people in Primary Ops. She was smiling at him, but he didn't know how she would react to this. "The screen red flagged this," he held up the newspaper.

She took it. It was a copy of the day's issue of The Daily Planet. Well, it was a page from a back section of the paper. It was – the personals? There was a red circle around one of the ads – most likely done by D. She read the ad under the category of Men Seeking Women aloud, "Desperately seeking Rhone Chade. Sorry about the museum. L.L."

She immediately thought of Lex, but realized if he was going to do something so – odd it probably would have come two days ago when the first issue of The Planet came out after the attempted robbery on the Metropolis Art Museum. And why would he be apologizing? Besides, it lacked his - suaveness.

Perhaps she should have gone to see Lex before he went back to Smallville. But she was busy with overseeing damage control, training, and convincing New Guy that she really wasn't that bad – there were reasons she had treated him so harshly. He seemed to be accepting it – gradually.

D was shifting as she pretended to read the ad a few times. She looked up suspiciously, "Anything else?"

He shook his head, "A few weeks ago, someone ran your name through the DMV and The Hall of Records. It was a hack job – out of Smallville…"

She raised her brow.

He continued, "I traced it back to the local high school."

"Definitely no reason to bother me," she confirmed. She smiled at the juvenile attempts of Chloe Sullivan. She really was quite – determined.

"But then we started getting other hits on you, from other places – little things. But after the museum…" he noticed that the others in the room were giving them their attention.

"Hn?" she was reading the ad again. She expected Lex and others to do some digging on her, but none of it really concerned her. There was nothing to find. She had all the necessary records that someone would need, but nothing more.

"There was a hit on Hikari Ambrose," he said finally.

She looked up at him suddenly and everything in the room went silent. "When did this happen?" she stood with a serious look on her face.

D began to speak, "Just a short time…"

She interrupted, "It doesn't matter."

Griffin walked over to the Rhone and D. He had listened to the conversation. He took the paper and read it for himself, "What do we do, Boss?"

She felt as though a piece of her heart sank, but she responded without hesitation, "Delete her."

"Do my eyes deceive me?" Griffin said playfully.

"What?" Rhone asked as though she had no idea what he was talking about.

"It appears to me that you are leaving base," he gestured to her outfit. She was dressed in one of Thalia's dark fitted pants suits – like the ones she had taken to Smallville for the invoice audit. It was a rare occasion that she was in anything but dark cargo pants and a fitted t-shirt. He often wondered if it had anything to do with her not wanting to remind him of Thalia. …No, extremely casual was her style and she was true to it. She had the artist's tube as well, but that was more normal than anyone should learn to accept.

"I'm not a prisoner, you know," she said as she opened the door to the garage.

He followed her, "Yeah, you are." When she gave him a sharp look, he added, "However, it is completely self-imposed."

"Thank you, I think," Rhone smiled.

"Where are you going, anyway? Recon?" he asked. She normally sent someone else to do that kind of recon. And if she did go, she didn't go alone – it could get boring.

After a moment, she answered, "Yeah."

Griffin thought this was a little too abnormal, "Does this have something to do with Hikari Ambrose?"

"Was there a problem with her – removal?" she asked.

"No," he said softly, "Do you…?"

"No," she said without emotion, "All that matters is that she is no longer a threat – to anyone." She opened the door to one of the cars that anyone on base could use, wiping away a nonexistent smudge on the white surface with her sleeve.

"Want some company?" he started walking to the other side of her car.

"Unnecessary, I'll be back in a couple of hours," she quickly got into the car and shut the door.

Griffin pulled a chair up to a console in Primary Ops. He gave a glance around him and turned back to the glowing computer monitor. He tapped a few keys and waited. He checked over his shoulder again. The signal homed in… What? He did it again with the same result. She drove fast, but there is no way that she made it there in less than twenty minutes. …A smile curled slowly onto his face. He knew it.

"Mr. Luthor," a voice came over his office phone.

"Yes, Natalie," Lionel drawled to his assistant. It was getting late in the evening, perhaps she was looking to fulfill her – other office duties.

"There's…" she paused, "Someone here to see you, Mr. Luthor." He heard her voice, but knew that she was speaking to whoever was there, "How did you get all the way up here without an appointment anyway?"

"Send her in," Lionel said definitively.

She stepped through his heavy wooden doors with an air of confidence, walking through the center of them and holding her hands out so they opened fully. She moved swiftly, that the doors swung in fully and then slowly closed behind her.

"Ms. Chade, what brings you here?" he said with a sneer.

"A man that – desperately seeks me," she said as she walked to his desk. She held out a hand to shake, but he leaned to kiss it in a courtly manner. She withdrew it when he was about halfway down. He was no Lex.

"I must say that I'm – delighted that you came so promptly," he maintained his smile.

She knew his last statement was a lie and seeing him smile made her think about stabbing him with one of the expensive pens on his desk. "Is there something that I can do for you, Mr. Luthor?" she didn't want to be caught in pleasantries for – well, ever.

"I just wanted to thank you," he gestured for her to sit on her side of the desk.

"Thank me for…?" she asked and made no move to sit.

"Where should I begin? Protecting the virtue of the museum or saving my only son in the robbery?" he sat in his chair – more like a leather throne.

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Luthor. I was in bed at the time – I'm a little bit of a homebody," she smiled innocently. From what she knew of this guy, if he was going to thank her, it would definitely be for saving his priceless – however, she was sure he had a price on them – museum artifacts and not for the safety of his only child.

"Of course you were," he smiled back.

"Sorry to disappoint you, Sir. However, I am glad to hear that the museum and your son," she paused for a moment and pretended to think on the name for a moment, "Lex are relatively unscathed."

"As am I, Ms. Chade," he smiled.

Yeah, right you lying bastard. With a wide smile she said, "Then I'll let you get back to what you were doing." She turned.

"I was just about to watch a video," Lionel said, "A little something from a single closed circuit monitor in my wing of the Metropolis Art Museum. It operates independently from the other security cameras."

Rhone turned back to him and in bland voice said, "Fascinating." Shit. She knew what was coming. She looked at him smugly.

"I said the same when I viewed the tape from the night of the robbery," he turned to an area that held a plasma screen television. He picked up a remote control from an end table beside a lavish couch in a sitting area. He turned the television on and a silent tape of the robbery was playing.

The image was perfect. Even though she was wearing sunglasses, it was obvious that the woman that was on the video was the same woman that stood in his office. "It proves that you can dress some women up, but you can't take them out," Lionel turned to her and looked her up and down.

"I told you, Mr. Luthor, I don't really go out…" she began to remind him.

He turned to the screen again and held up his hand to silence her. He was still holding the remote control. "This," he said quietly, "Is my favorite part. …It has – style."

She watched herself throw the artist's tube against the wall and catch her katana in one fluid motion. Then she started deflecting bullets with it. She didn't like watching herself do such things.

After she disappeared out of the camera's view, Lionel turned to her – smiling arrogantly.

She allowed the air between them to go still for a moment, "I don't see your point, Mr. Luthor."

"Do you do this sort of thing free lance?" he gestured to the screen.

"All invoice auditors are trained in the deadly arts," she informed him with a smirk.

"Of course," he set down the remote control and leaned against the back of the opulent couch. After he realized that she wasn't going to speak, he folded his arms across his chest. "I put quite a lot of effort into finding out about you," he said.

"I'm flattered," she said flatly.

"I'm sure you know that I found little," he ignored her comment.

"Really?" she said lightly.

"I had to wait quite a while for you to make a mistake," he gestured to the screen without looking at it.

"And I thought I was on top of my game," she raised a hand to her heart as though she had been wounded.

"Don't get me wrong, Ms. Chade, you are – magnificent," he tilted his head back on the last word.

That made her uncomfortable. Instinct was telling her to get out of there. He was looking at her like she was – what? She remained still, "Rhone."

"I want to buy your sword, Rhone," he said blatantly.

She furrowed her brow, "My sword?" That was unexpected.

He smiled, "Yes. I – equate war with business…"

"And you need a creative way to off competitors?" she finished.

He chuckled, "No. I have a collection of weaponry and I would like to add your katana to it." He added in a knowing voice, "Perhaps Lex showed you the war room at the castle?"

"Is that what this is about, me being friends with your son?" she asked. He obviously knew that she had been at the castle – frequently during her time in Smallville. There was no use in trying to deny the – friendship she shared with Lex. Was he attempting to pay an inflated price for the katana for her to stay away from Lex? Or did he know about the katana's – unusual properties? …He was trying to buy her. He must be.

"No, I think that you are a smart girl and realize that you can't be his friend," he emphasized the last word like it was laughable. He straightened and walked to the large picture window in his office.

She didn't move, but looked at him with a smile, "Because you won't let me?"

"Because the world won't let you," he looked at her smaller reflection in the window.

He was looking out over Metropolis like a king over his loyal subjects. Rhone actually felt a chill run down her spine. He owned this city.

He continued his speech, "Either the media would ruin your anonymity or your enemies – and I'm sure you have them – would use him against you."

"You've made your point," she informed him, "But it has been sometime since…"

"Excellent," he cut her off. "Now about your katana," he turned to his desk and flipped open a massive checkbook. Rich people even needed physically larger checkbooks…

"Don't bother, Mr. Luthor," she sneered.

"And why is that?" he asked as she made her way to the door.

"It's not for sale," she said, but didn't bother to look over her shoulder as she left the same way she came.

He wondered which one wasn't for sale, the sword – or her "friendship" with his son. He turned back to the monitor and to watch the video for the thirty-ninth time. Perhaps he was going to need that – outside help after all. He picked up the remote control and aimed it at the television, turning on the volume.


	60. Chapter 60

It was dark and Lex had been poring over the long awaited files that he had requested since he came home from the plant – stopping only for a brief dinner. He had sifted through them and pulled out the ones he found to be relevant. He had read through them once fully, and now he was skimming through them again. One of the people even drew a picture; Metropolis P.D. must not have found it necessary to get a sketch artist to any of these witnesses. Admittedly, if he didn't have his experience, neither would he.

He looked at the comic book from his collection that was on his desk as well. Maybe he really was crazy…

"What's all this?" a voice chuckled beside him.

Startled, he looked up, "Don't you knock?" He was smiling instantly.

Rhone smiled as she looked down at him in his chair. "I did," she paused, "For almost five minutes. Hence my interest in what you are reading so intently."

"At the museum…?" he started to ask as he stood.

She held up her hands to stop him, "I said soon, a week is pretty soon."

He nodded but disagreed internally. However, that wasn't what he was going to ask. "I was going to ask…" suddenly he realized he didn't know what to ask. He looked to the artist's tube at her back – he thought she had stopped wearing it when she was here. …A lot had happened since then.

She raised her brow at him, waiting.

Should he ask her about the necklace, the museum, the watch, the files on his desk, or anything else that he wanted to know about? He exhaled but still couldn't decide.

She turned to the windows that were behind his desk. She glanced down at the swords on the rack in front of the windows. The katanas had not moved since she originally had seen them in September. She felt sadness when she looked at them, but… "I was going to send Bones to have a look at you the night of the museum robbery, but Awol said you were fine," she said.

"Even though I wasn't tucked in?" he smirked as he moved to stand beside her. "I managed," he added after a moment.

She chuckled, "Your loss."

"Who is Bones? And why would he need to look at me?" he asked.

"Our doctor like on Star Trek?" when he just looked at her she added, "He's the best there is."

"I would think that he would have more to worry about with you," Lex said as he put his hands in his pockets.

"Why?" she genuinely didn't know what he was talking about.

Jumping through a skylight, plummeting off a helicopter, being shot at – was any of this coming back to her? He shook his head, "No reason."

"Tell me, what happened when I sent New Guy here?" she inquired.

Lex paused. He didn't want to tell her that New Guy had totally botched his little mission. He had given Lex information as well as delivered a very welcome gift. "Thank you for the report," he politely ignored the real question.

"Don't protect him," she smiled and looked at him out of the corner of her eye, "I sent him to you to fail. You're too smart and too strong to allow him to dominate you without words."

"That doesn't sound very optimistic," Lex turned to her.

She tilted her head at him. "I didn't punish him or anything," she smiled, "Being recruited by us essentially means that you are, well, elite – the best. It can be an ego trip." She tried to explain.

"And a quick lesson in humility is the cure," Lex leaned against the shelves that held his rack of katanas.

"The minute you start thinking – believing – you are better than the people you protect," she looked back to the window, "You become Gell."

"What was yours?" Lex asked casually.

"My what?" she creased her brow.

"Your lesson in humility," he crossed his arms over his chest. Surely this was something she had experienced herself – a lesson from Bishop passed down. He believed this wasn't the kind of thing that she would think up.

She turned her attention to the books on the nearby shelves. She didn't know how to communicate something like this. "Women are different," was her answer.

Lex frowned, he didn't like that answer. No, he _really_ didn't like it. She avoided eye contact and she wouldn't tell him. He thought for a long moment and finally raised his eyes to her again, "About the necklace…"

"It was very thoughtful – very beautiful, thank you," she said.

"…You returned it," he stated the obvious.

She finally turned back to him and smiled, "It doesn't mean I didn't appreciate it." She wanted to tell him that she didn't need things like that from him; he was more than enough, that their time together was the only gift she wanted. But it was so much easier to feel it than to say it. "I understand what you were willing to give up," her face became serious, "Not that you needed to."

He was about to do something that he rarely did, "Before you left…"

"Was forgotten well before you sent that necklace," she interrupted. She knew he was trying to apologize out loud. But she didn't feel the need to make him. "I sent the report first, remember?" she pointed to a large book on the shelves.

When he thought about it, why did she send a peace offering first? "Why?" he had to know. No one ever gave him things without getting something in return – excluding Clark.

"Because," she tried to sum up every poem about beauty and charm in a couple of words, but found the effort futile, "You had already given me so much of your forgiveness."

Lex looked at her in need of clarification. He had not done anything of the sort. She slowly raised her hand to the artist's tube on her back and pointed at it. He took a few steps closer to her. "You forgave me despite the fact that I'm…" she paused, "My job basically makes me a bad person."

He looked into her eyes. She said it so honestly; she actually believed what she had just said. The world really was unreasonable. "I don't forgive you or," he searched for a word, "Tolerate what you are. I accept it – I… In all honesty, I don't like it. It's dangerous and… But that has nothing to do with you being a bad person. You're – you're a hero."

She looked at the ground, "Don't ever say that again."

He looked as though he was going to disagree with her on this point.

"True heroes don't need gratitude. I am well paid." She was beginning to feel – guilt? – about his worries. A part of her wanted to ease those worries. …He was so understanding. And his compliments made her want to tell the military and innocent midnight victims of Metropolis crime to go to hell so she could… He opened his mouth to speak but she spoke, "If I may point out, you seem to get into a fair amount of trouble yourself."

He smiled and ran a hand over his head. It was so horribly true. "It has a way of finding me," he defended. He was delighted that their – relationship was all right. She spoke of his forgiveness, but he knew that he had acted in a way that would require her forgiveness. But she never said anything spiteful, took it out on him, or even had any signs of holding it against him – like nothing ever happened. …And she really saved his ass at the museum. …He couldn't help but grin and pine to hold her. She was irreplaceable. …True heroes don't need gratitude – that was the second time she said that.

After a long moment, he finally said, "I have something I want to talk to you about." He had officially decided. He trusted her, she trusted him. He was going to tell her about falling off the building in Metropolis – everything about it.

"I totally want to hear it, especially if it's what has you so – enthralled over here," she gestured to his desk. "But I want to get something out of the way. I met your father," she said simply.

This was new; usually he had to do something underhanded to find out that someone was involved with his father. "Really," he tried to sound blasé.

"Yeah," she said.

"Was he as impressive as his books on tape say he is?" Lex turned back to the window.

She smiled and looked at her feet. Her smile quickly faded; she didn't want to insult his father. She really didn't know Lionel Luthor and Lex was his son, after all. Despite any distaste Lex may have for him personally, hearing someone else say things might be a little different.

Lex noticed her pause and looked over his shoulder at her. He felt a sudden renewal of his perpetual anger with his father, "Did he threaten you?"

"Like he could," she gave him a smug smile.

He remained still, "Then what?"

"He's," she paused for sometime looking for the right, non-offensive word, "Unique."

Now Lex saw what her dilemma was. He smiled, "You're not protecting me. I know he's – malevolent."

She smiled and nodded. If malevolence is a word you use to describe the way you feel when you accept a dinner invitation from Hannibal Lector…

"Why did he…?" he started to prepare for the worst.

"He," she paused and scrunched up her face in thought, "Summoned me." She shrugged.

"He summoned you?" Lex repeated. Why didn't he have that kind of access to her?

She reached in her back pocket and pulled out a scrap of paper. She looked at it for a second before she handed it to him. "This was in The Daily Planet a few days ago," she looked at him and tried to read his is expression.

He took the newspaper clipping and read it, keeping his left hand in his pocket.

"At first I thought it was you," she said.

He looked up suddenly, "What changed your mind?"

She smiled, "It used the word 'desperately."

He laughed lightly, "A word not associated with my father either."

"Obviously it is," she said.

He gave her a sideways glance, "What are you doing reading the personals?"

"What, like elite soldiers don't get lonely?" she said in mock surprise.

His expression remained unchanged. He briefly wondered why he didn't worry about this; he just knew she wasn't the type that would do something like that. She was too – proud. Either that or just too damn busy.

"My name is a red flag. When a red flag word or phrase runs though our computer, it gets pulled aside and we look at it in detail," she explained.

Lex needed to know, "What did he want?"

Her expression remained focused as she exhaled loudly. "I," she paused, "I don't know." She looked at him and shook her head.

He could tell that she wasn't trying to hide something from him. If she was, she wouldn't have even mentioned the meeting in the first place. His father's behavior genuinely perplexed her – he could sympathize. "Well, what did he say?" maybe he could help her figure it out.

She thought for a moment. "I think he wanted to pay a very high price for my katana," she started, "And in addition to the sword, he would have peace of mind knowing that I was no longer associated with his only son."

Why did his father…? Lex shook his head; it wasn't even worth trying to figure out Lionel Luthor. "What did he offer you?" he was curious at what price Lionel valued him.

"It didn't get that far," she turned her gaze to him. "If anything, his argument was much more convincing," she admitted.

Lex lifted his brow; she didn't even listen to his father's offer. He smiled, she really was matchless. "The argument," he led. He wanted to know what she viewed as a problem to – them. He knew that his father would probe into her, Claire had inadvertently ratted them out when he and Rhone had gone home early during the audit.

"Our friendship… There is the potential that I would lose my enigmatic status, but I think he overestimates how much real people, the general population, really cares about your family," she smiled.

Lex chuckled, "He doesn't realize that they only care when we do something wrong or the press doesn't have anything else to report that day." It was the truth. The public cared about Luthor Corp. as a creator of jobs or as a ticker on the stock exchange, but not so much about their personal lives. Lex had hardly seen any real coverage since he stopped being Metropolis' bad boy. Now the exposure he got was mainly business.

"He also mentioned that I might put you in danger, which concerns me," she added seriously as she leaned against his desk.

That was her real problem; Lex narrowed his eyes. "How does he know about…?" he paused. He had just realized that he was one of the few people that knew about her means. It was accepted knowledge to him, but his father…

She very briefly covered her face with her hands in mild frustration. When she lowered them she said, "He has a tape from the museum robbery – a good one." She knew that Lex had seen what happened inside the museum, Griffin told her. And then he questioned her about how she had managed to do what she did again – and again…

Lex exhaled. His father was so… Was there even a word for it? Paranoid? Suspicious? …Obsessive? "Why your sword?" he wondered out loud.

"Maybe he thought trying to buy my underwear would come off as creepy," she joked. There was no way that Lionel Luther knew the legend…

He smiled, "Is that all that happened?"

"It was a pretty short meeting," she admitted. "Are you still checking up on me?" she asked out of nowhere.

"What do you mean?" he thought that was sudden.

"You know, background check? Whatever else you may not feel comfortable asking me directly," she asked.

For an instant, he thought about playing dumb, like he didn't even know what she was talking about. But… "No," he shook his head, "But there are other things I would like know." He never realized that it would be this uncomfortable talking about this with her. They had never mentioned it before, but he knew that she must know. In a way, he regretted looking into her at all. He would much rather hear it from her.

She nodded. Of course there were. "When did you stop?" she asked plainly.

Lex paused for a moment, "The day after you told me the truth about your job." He saw her brow knit in thought.

"This may sound odd, but are you sure?" she lowered her head slightly and looked up at him.

He thought again, even though he knew the answer. She sounded like something was wrong and he wanted to make sure that he was telling the truth. He nodded reassuringly. "Why?" he asked.

"Because someone is looking very hard. And it isn't Chloe Sullivan. Although her attempts with the DMV and The Hall of Records were," she paused, "Cute."

Lex smiled lightly, "I'm sure she would love to hear that." His face turned serious again, "And you think that my father is the one who is looking into you so diligently?"

"If it isn't you," she nodded.

"How do you know it isn't one of your – foes?" he asked tentatively. He was sure that her adversaries were his father's arguments for making their friendship unsafe. He knew she wouldn't hurt him. Perhaps it would increase the government's interest in him and thus in Luthor Corp. But if Rhone was so high ranking, she could just make it go away. …His father just might like that – if he ever allowed himself to like anything.

"Believe it or not, I don't really have them," she said as she began to remove the artist's tube from her back. She was initially worried that Lionel had a valid point, but then after a little more evaluation – and a few words with Griffin – she realized that she really couldn't name any enemies. Lex probably had more rivals than she did.

He really didn't believe her, most likely anyone that she foiled wouldn't find her as endearing as he did.

She caught his look, "It isn't in my job description to leave room for reform." She turned to put the tube on one of the chairs opposite Lex's, "Gell was an exception. I don't leave opponents."

He said it before he had a chance to think, "If you did, would you be here right now?"

"I don't," she answered simply and turned to face him once more.

Not exactly the answer he was hoping for. But he didn't want to press it. He got the feeling that if he knew any better, she might consider his asking an insult. …He was just pleased that whatever the answer was – in the back of his mind he officially made it a yes – she was here now.

She shook her head dismissively. "You had something you wanted to tell me," she turned to the files on his desk, "I'm sorry that I interrupted you."

He shook his head softy. It gave him assurance, knowing that she would tell him about his father. No one ever told him such things. She just came right out and told him; she didn't try to keep it from him. She was honest and he treasured that. "Don't," he closed his eyes, "Apologize for being truthful. It's an attractive quality." He pushed in his chair and stood behind it and beside her.

Her mouth was dry. He called her attractive. No, he said you had an attractive quality. …Still good. She didn't look up; it was like there was a feather in her lungs.

Lex decided it was now or never. He picked up one of the closed files, "Two days before the museum robbery, I was doing some business for my father at the Metropolis Plaza…"


	61. Chapter 61

"…And then it scaled the edge of the building like it was born doing it – like it was nothing," he finished.

She had nodded a few times during his story. About half way through, she moved to sit on his desk to face him. She was just looking at him like she expected more. She didn't have any sign of emotion on her face. Finally she smiled, "And there's a six foot bat in Gotham City."

Lex sighed loudly and turned to face the window. He absently ran a hand over his head. "You don't believe me," he shook his head.

"You're serious?" like she was just now beginning to take it as something he was being sincere about.

"I know you probably…" he turned back to her. He realized that this did sound – senseless. It was probably a good thing that he didn't tell anyone else. If Rhone couldn't even…

She looked down, "You're talking about The Shamira."

Lex's eyes lit up, "You know about it?"

She closed her eyes tightly for a moment, "Are you sure that you weren't…? It's an urban legend. Something parents in the ghetto tell their kids to get them to come home before sunrise."

"Forget I mentioned it," he started to quickly stack up the files that were on the desk.

His jaw was set; he looked disconcerted. She put a hand on the small stack of files to stop him from his hasty clean up. "Did it say anything to you?" she didn't look at him.

His features softened and he looked down at the files, "No."

"I've heard stories about it, but I've always dismissed them," she said as she looked up to him again.

"Does that mean you're starting to believe me?" he put his hands on the back of his chair.

"I guess I don't have a choice, considering it is obviously becoming a new hobby of yours," she gave a quick glance to the files.

He remained expressionless until he saw her smile a reassuring smile. Was she humoring him?

"Well, what did you find?" she looked to the ceiling briefly and then to him again.

"As you know, they call it The Shamira. It means…" he started.

"Guardian – or protector," she finished.

He looked at her in surprise. She knew Hebrew? …Even he had to look it up.

She looked at him like "who doesn't know that?" Then she said innocently, "What?"

Lex started opening folders on his desk and spreading them out, there was only about five of them. He wasn't going to be so eager, but having someone to listen to it was kind of exciting. "The first person to report it was a Rabbi in the old historical district a little over a year ago. As a matter of fact, all of these reports are from that district," he said more to himself.

She picked up the relevant folder and read through it. "Obviously, he named it and it stuck – at least as a way to file reports on it," she was looking at the police report. She never altered the few police reports that came in regarding The Shamira. If she touched them, it might draw attention to it. No one took it seriously anyway.

"He said that she dropped from the sky – a silver guardian – with the wings of an angel and knocked out a mugger that held him at knife point," Lex summed up what was in the report.

"What was it doing by The Metropolis Plaza to save you if it is always hanging out in a dilapidated place like that? …And you said it was presumably male, didn't have wings," she started listing inconsistencies.

"I don't know why it was there," he admitted. "If you look at these reports, all of them describe something different," he addressed her comments about the differences in stories.

"I'm surprised there are even any police reports. The cops are too scared to go outside down in that precinct," Rhone said with disdain. Most things that happened there went unreported. There wasn't much left there anyway – mostly homeless people, the very poor, criminals, and people that had the misfortune of getting lost there.

"The people that filed reports actually had to go to a station to file," Lex confirmed. The reports had the location of the filing on them and who took down the statement.

She picked up another file and started reading it. Lex watched her silently. She held up the picture that one of the witnesses had drawn and chuckled.

"What?" he asked.

She handed the picture to him and tossed the folder down lightly on the desk.

He looked at the picture again. It's most distinctive feature was the very large shoulders – something it didn't have when he had seen it. It had almost a – science fiction feel too it, with the helmet. "Not everyone can draw like you, Rhone," he commented.

"No," she shook her head still smiling, "Where was this victim coming from, an arcade?"

Lex didn't understand. "What does that have to do with anything?" he picked up the folder and looked through it.

"You really don't know who this is?" she looked at him quizzically.

"Should I?" he looked at the picture again. It didn't ring a bell.

"Considering when you were born, yes," she smiled.

"Would you mind enlightening me?" he looked up from the picture.

She looked at him like she didn't believe he didn't know, "It's Samus."

Lex narrowed his brow in thought, it sounded like a mythical Greek hero or…

"Metroid?" she offered. Lex just looked at her, waiting for her to continue. "A video game heroine – for the original Nintendo," she informed him. Where did he grow up, some kind of corporate bubble? She shook her head, "How do we really even know that this is the same – creature?"

"There is no way that there are six of these things running around Metropolis," Lex said definitively, "The way that it could move and change its shape…"

She decided not to argue. "What did it look like for you?" she asked. He had described it briefly, but she wanted to hear if he would admit to what he had really seen.

"You may not believe this," he leaned and picked up a comic book from his desk. He handed it to her.

She looked at it and then looked at him. "This is what you saw?" she held up the issue of Silver Surfer.

"Exactly," he said, "Except it moved like…"

"Spider-Man," she finished. He had described its' locomotion exactly that way.

"I know it sounds…" he said as he turned to the window again.

"Do you want me to start having some of my guys go down there and checking it out? Red flag Shamira?" she offered as she got off of his desk and moved to stand beside him.

He tilted his head to the side and focused on the two of them in the reflection of one of the small panes of normally transparent glass – the darkness caused it to be semi-opaque. He couldn't help but smile a little. "No, your men would think that you are just as crazy as you think I am," he said.

"I don't think that you're crazy," she said honestly.

He turned to her with a disbelieving look.

"You have to admit that it does sound a little strange," she started, "But I said that I believe you, and I mean it."

He watched her as she moved to pick up another folder. She began reading the file, slowly returning to his side. He smiled again.

She knew that he was watching her. A smile slowly curled onto her lips as she read the statements. Then she started laughing softly.

"What?" he closed the gap between them.

She cleared her throat theatrically and held the folder out in front of her. She read what she had found amusing out loud, "I quote, 'It was like being saved by an epic level paladin with spiked full plate armor, but without the armor check penalty." She began to laugh again, but more loudly.

Lex was always glad to see her happy, but really didn't understand what was so amusing. When he read that file, he thought the witness was on drugs. And the officer on duty that took his statement agreed because they gave the guy a full tox screen. It was peculiar that it came up negative on everything. "He must be delusional," Lex still didn't see what was so funny, "No one could understand what he was talking about."

"Should I be offended?" she looked at him, still smiling.

"You understand this? Is it some type of code?" Lex took the folder and turned it toward him.

She started laughing again, harder than before. She grabbed her diaphragm, "Yeah, I understand it – the call of the nerd." When she looked up again, he was still looking at her with a look of confusion. She breathed in deeply to get out the last of her amusement. "The Shamira must have a thing for geeks," she tapped the folder in Lex's hands, "This guy plays D&D – a lot." She emphasized the words "a lot."

"Considering it saved me; is it my turn to be offended?" Lex smiled.

She smiled and rolled her eyes with a shrug. "If it knew that you had more invested in comic books than most people spend on a house?" she raised her brow, "I stand by my original assessment of its preferences."

She just called me a geek, he realized. He smiled faintly, not knowing what else to do. "I don't share that information with just anyone; it's classified," his smile widened and he crossed his arms over his chest.

"Well, then I guess I feel special," she said honestly.

"So…" he paused, "How long are you in Smallville?"

"I guess that depends on what time billionaires need to get their beauty sleep," she turned and started to clean up the folders on his desk.

Lex looked at his watch – 11 p.m. He realized that he wasn't wearing the watch that she had given him. Shit. She probably noticed and thought that he didn't like it or that he never wore it. …Would people look at him strangely if he wore two watches, one on each wrist? Yes. Damn it. "Usually I'm in bed by eight…" he continued to look at his watch. He smiled widely as he looked up.

If it actually is beauty sleep – it shows, she thought. "And I'm corrupting you," she playfully chided herself as she turned back to him.

A thought occurred to him. "I don't mind," he kept his broad smile as he gestured for her to follow him. He made his way around the desk.

"Where are we going?" she inquired, slowly moving to follow him.

He continued to swagger to the doors of his office, hands in his pockets. He couldn't remove the smile plastered to his face.


	62. Chapter 62

"You're just full of surprises," she held out her hands in front of her.

"Just because you didn't see a television in 'this museum' doesn't mean there isn't one," he smiled and shut the door behind them.

He had led her to a room some distance down the hall. It looked like many of the others in the castle. However, there was an expensive television – much like the one Lionel Luthor had in his office – on a large well-built cart against the wall. She got the impression that it was meant to be mobile – it probably was the only one in the mansion. "Do you even know how to use it?" she quipped as she watched him move to the television.

He looked at it, "You stare at it." He pointed to it and he looked back to her.

"Good enough," she grinned, walking to the posh couch that was in front of the television – a low coffee table between them. There were other chairs in the room, but they were pushed off to the side – at inadequate angles to the television.

Lex bent at the legs and opened the cabinet doors on the cart. He thought for a moment and pushed a button. The screen turned on and was a bright blue, waiting for input. And he was worried he wouldn't remember how to use it. He grabbed a case from beside the DVD player, opened it, and put the disk inside the player. He smiled.

"What are we watching?" she asked from behind him.

Still holding the case, he straightened and turned to her. He took a few steps closer to her and handed her the case with a smirk. He was quite pleased with himself.

She knew what it was before she read the cover. She had it and knew what the cover looked like. Mystery Science Theater 3000: The Movie. She smiled softly, "When did you get this?"

"A while ago," he said vaguely. More like he was on the internet ordering it right after he found the watch in his pocket – right after she said she would see him soon.

She gave him a knowing look and handed the box back to him, "Have you even seen this?"

He studied the box in his hand, "Not exactly."

"And you realize," she looked at him playfully, "If it starts, we have to watch the whole thing." It was a statement, not a question.

That's the plan, Lex thought. "You make it sound like a threat," he lightly tossed the movie case onto the table.

"We'll see what you think in about a half hour," she started to slowly back up to the door.

He noticed her movement and was about to question it, but she spoke again.

"I'll be right back," she smiled and gestured for him to sit down.

She stopped in front of the doors to Lex's office. She placed her hand on the door frame and peered in. She felt slightly guilty about this. She should just ask Lex. That would lead to questions…

She listened… No one was coming. She walked into the office. Just do what you have to do, Rhone, and then get out. …Why was she feeling guilty? If anything, he was getting the better end of the deal here… Maybe because it was still strangely dishonest. …Just do it. She walked forward.

"You're up late," Martha Kent said as she shut the screen door behind her.

Jonathon didn't move from his position. His hands still rested on the porch railing as he surveyed the legacy that was The Kent farm. "I'm just planning out my day tomorrow," he said after a moment.

Martha crossed her arms over her chest to ward off the chill in the air as she walked up behind him. She could tell that her husband was stressing over something. They had been married long enough for her to read him and she had a pretty good idea what was wrong, "Is this about Rhone?" she asked as she placed a hand on his back.

He couldn't help but smile as he moved his gaze to the railing in front of him. His wife had gotten to know him pretty well over the years. "The thought had crossed my mind," he looked to her.

"I'm surprised you managed to keep it to yourself when she mentioned going to see Lex," she leaned into him.

"It seems that everyone forgot to mention that she and Lex Luthor were such good friends," Jonathon had an idea that his wife knew – he knew Clark had "forgotten" to mention it.

Martha rested her head on his shoulder but remained silent – Clark had mentioned that Lex and Rhone were friends previously.

He exhaled and put his arm around his wife. He knew that he could be slightly stubborn when it came to the Luthors. It had been brought to his attention more than once. "She knows Clark's secret, Martha," he said what had really been on his mind.

She closed her eyes for a moment and relaxed her shoulders. "She has her own secret to protect," she tried to explain, "And she does."

"That doesn't mean anything," he said honestly.

"I don't think she would betray Clark's secret," Martha said simply.

After a moment, he said, "I don't either. It's just…" He really didn't know how to finish his thought.

She knew how much he worried about their family staying together, she had the same concerns. But she trusted Rhone, had had a feeling about her since she had met her – they all did. …The girl called her mom… Martha wrapped her arms around him and gave him a squeeze in an attempt to convey her thoughts.

He kissed her softly just above her forehead; he understood. He knew his wife worried; she was just less vocal about her concerns. …He still didn't trust the Luthors…

Lex looked to the door when it clicked open. "I was just about to organize a search party," he looked up at her.

"Unfamiliar kitchens," she shook her head and set down some of the food that she had collected in the kitchen. "I would have asked you for help, but…" she let her voice drift, implying that she would know her way around it better than he would.

He ignored her implication, smiling through an attempted look of annoyance.

She noticed that of the three cushions on the couch, he was on the middle one. She seized the bottle of water that she had set down with the other food and took a position next to the left arm rest of the couch. She rested her left arm on the arm rest and brought her legs up to her chest. He just might hate this, she smiled to herself.

He leaned forward and snatched the remote control from the low table. He leaned back and turned to her with a smirk. Then he lifted the remote and hit "play." Why is she all the way over there? …Necklace. Watch. We should definitely be in a state of tactile contact, Lex assured himself that the natural progression of such things had not changed that much since he had come to Smallville. Hell, right now they should be… He felt heat on his cheeks. He quickly picked up another remote and used it to dim the lights to a theater level.

He tried to remember if he had had this kind of trouble with a woman before. …No. Well, it wasn't exactly trouble. Did he ever have this kind of problem reading a woman before? A more applicable question would be if he ever bothered to really try and read one before. …No.

He realized he was staring at her when she looked over at him. "Do you want a," he picked up one of the bags that she brought and read the label, "Chocolate chip cookie?" Great cover, Lex, he scolded himself.

"Do I have to fetch something first?" she asked.

"Bringing them up here should suffice," he smiled and took one for himself. He looked at the cookie. He never ate these. What were they doing in his house?

She laughed and took a chocolate chip cookie. She turned back to the screen. That was – odd. She wondered if she could put her arm around him. It wouldn't be very traditional, but it would be so… Who was she kidding? If she touched him he would wrinkle. She would disrupt his faultlessness. …Maybe she should ask him about Victoria Hardwick. Why would he send her the necklace if he wasn't even a little bit interested…? No. That's ridiculous. You're friends. Buddies. Just like every other guy that you know – have ever known. You're just one of the guys to him. Except that this is the one guy that you want to… Life can be so cruel.

"Ok," he sighed after a while, "Are those guys ever going away?"

"What guys? I hate to break it to you, but Ruth and Cal are the main characters," she laughed.

"No," he shook his head, "The three guys at the bottom." He pointed with the partially nibbled cookie he had been holding – the same cookie he had been working on for over twenty minutes.

She laughed again, "That is the movie." …How long did it take the guy to eat one cookie?

"The three guys at the bottom?" he asked one more time, just to make sure he was getting this right.

"Yes," she nodded very slowly and looked at him with a smile.

He looked back to the screen, "What does that have to do with the beginning?"

"The live action stuff with the mad scientist? It's just there to hold the show together," she informed him, "There's no real plot there – at least that affects the rest of the show."

He looked back to her, "And this was a television show? There are more of these?"

"I hate to break it to you, but this is the highest budget it ever had," she pointed to the screen, "This is the high quality stuff – the motion picture."

This was the high quality stuff? "So should I be watching the movie or listening to them?" he might as well just ask.

"Both," she assured him, "You get used to it."


	63. Chapter 63

Lex had the same look on his face that he had had through most of the movie. Rhone had dubbed it Lex's aloof version of "what the hell?" However, she had seen him smile quite a few times when she stole glances at him in the dim light – the screen casting an ethereal blue glow over him… He even chuckled a couple times, and for Lex, that was a lot. The credits ended and she turned to him, "Well?"

He looked at the screen for a few more moments, "It was like being in a theater with a group of rowdy thirteen-year-olds." He turned to her, "But it was – entertaining."

"I guess that's all I can ask for," she smirked. So many times during the movie her mind wandered to how soft his skin would be, if he would panic if she put a hand on his thigh. So that was all she could ask for – out loud anyway.

He silently urged her to ask for more, but unfortunately she didn't continue.

She inhaled deeply and looked at the blue screen again, "You never mentioned… Did your date get away from the museum unscathed?" Did she just say that? Where in the hell did that come from?

Lex quickly looked up at her profile. Date? He didn't have a date that night – hadn't had one for a while… He quickly thought about that night. He shook his head, "Victoria was not my date." The idea was laughable – and yet, vaguely nauseating.

Was he just saying that? Did they not date and just have rich people sex? What the hell was rich people sex anyway? It probably involved piles of crisp currency and immigrant children using dyed ostrich feathers for fans. What would she know anyway? "Oh, well, whatever. Was she okay?" she couldn't believe she had just brought this up. It was way better to sound concerned than to sound – what? – pathetic and sad?

…Was she – jealous? No, she wasn't the type – was she? Even if she was, he didn't think that he could even take some kind of primitive male pride in it. He realized something, "In all honesty, I have no idea." He didn't even bother to ask or look. As soon as she was out of sight, Victoria Hardwick was out of his mind – completely unlike the woman that sat beside him.

Rhone nodded, still looking into the bright blue rectangle in front of her. She was relieved at his answer and when she realized her relief, felt embarrassed for herself. She was so lame.

Lex abruptly stood and headed for the television. "I was waiting for this one girl to call – I invited her a while ago. She said that she was probably busy – out of town." His voice was quiet, almost like he was talking to himself. He didn't turn to look at her, just kneeled in front of the cart to eject the DVD.

Stupid, stupid, stupid, Rhone mentally slapped herself. "Maybe she knew that she wouldn't fit in at a place like that," she offered. Either that or she knew she couldn't guarantee the lives of bimbos in red dresses that clung to hairless splendor. But she did have valid reasons for not going. She would not have worked had she gone. Lex would have distracted her from the recon – not that she really would have cared.

Lex's eyes fluttered closed and he shook his head at the blank screen on the television; he didn't want someone that "fit in." He straightened both posture and face before he turned to her. He didn't know how to articulate – anything. He sighed and shook his head briskly again, "You sell yourself short…"

"I would make it a point not to fit in," she interrupted quickly.

Lex paused with his mouth open slightly. How can you reply to something like that? A toothy grin spread across her face and she started to laugh softly. He couldn't help but join her. He resumed his position on the couch, but facing her with his arm on the back of it.

"Were you working late tonight?" he had been wondering why she showed up so late in the evening. In an odd way, he was in the mood for a story – one like Awol told, but with a much better looking, witty protagonist. A long story would also insure her company for a time, despite the fact that her occupation was the cause of a great deal of concern for him.

"No. I was going to show up earlier, but the Kents invited me to stay for dinner…" she started.

"You were at the Kents?" for some reason he thought that she made the trek to Smallville for, well, him. …And she had dinner with the Kents again? Did they feed everyone in Smallville but him?

"Yeah," she realized what he was going to ask, "Then Clark convinced me to play some football – then some soccer – and baseball…" That kid sure enjoyed having someone to clobber. But she could understand; she enjoyed it too, not having to hold anything back – full powers. Although that field would probably never be the same. She had to admit though, it was fun – they did an equal amount of clobbering.

"I never realized Clark was so into sports," Lex commented. The farm boy had been to the mansion many times, and had never expressed such an interest, nor was he on any of Smallville High's teams.

"Some people just bring out different qualities in you," she looked at him thoughtfully. It's kind of like how when I'm with you, I want to be more – well, just more.

"I know a few people like that," he rested his head on the hand supported by the back of the couch.

She narrowed her eyes and after a moment said, "How in the hell did you manage to get Awol to tell you his story, anyway?" Despite Lex's obvious charm, she knew that most men would be immune to that specific kind of charm. However, he did have negotiating skills from his business experience. But Awol should have been able to see a rouse if he was paying attention. …Awol paying attention? Right.

"His story?" he quirked his eyebrows at the last word.

"Where he came from – how I found him," she clarified.

"What difference does it make?" Lex asked.

"We don't just go around telling people things like that. Not the truth anyway," she added quickly, "And he had quite a distaste for you."

"Is it so hard to believe that we had an adult conversation and just came to an understanding?" he said innocently.

She looked at him, "You tricked him. …But you won him over in any case. I haven't decided whether or not to feel sorry for you."

He was about to ask her to elaborate, when she turned her head to the side and closed her eyes slightly. She was listening for something.

"Your phone is ringing," she informed him when she turned to face him again.

Lex stood, he didn't hear his phone ringing. He looked at her in a way that conveyed his disagreement. If Mark or another servant wasn't there, no calls were forwarded to his office phone. It would have to be to his direct extension or…

"Your cell phone is ringing," she corrected as she stood as well. She had heard it ring before and knew what it sounded like. It didn't sound anything like his office phone.

He quirked an eyebrow and started out of the room. After a brief retracing of his steps, he remembered his cell phone was in the pocket of his blazer – in his office down the hall.


	64. Chapter 64

Lex entered his office with Rhone at his side. He saw their reflection in the darkened windows behind his desk and inhaled deeply. He didn't hear ringing, but went to the blazer that was draped over the back of a couch. He pulled out his phone and looked at the display – 1 New Voice Message. He held it up to his ear and listened to the message. It was left no more than two minutes ago. He looked at Rhone and blinked.

Rhone could hear the message Lex was listening to. It was Gabe Sullivan, something was wrong at Plant Number Three. She walked to the chair that she had rested her artist's tube on and picked up the familiar cylinder. She kind of had to get going soon anyway.

He sighed and hung up after quite a lengthy message. "That was…" he started.

"Gabe, I heard," she nodded.

At first Lex thought she was demonstrating those incredible ears again, but realized that Gabe had left a rather excited message and anyone in the room probably could have heard it. …But she heard it ring from…? "I have to go down there," Lex was apologizing. He briefly wondered if the apology was to her or to himself.

"It's okay," she laughed softly.

He thought quickly, "You can come with if you like. I'm sure the police will work harder if you are there."

Yes. "I really can't…" she started to say.

"Or you could stay here…" Lex interrupted as he started to pull on the blazer he had worn the previous day. Why would she want to go there, to sit around and watch me fill out forms? Lex internally chastised himself.

"I really can't," she repeated, "I have to catch a flight out of Metropolis International this morning." She was at his side again, walking with him. So much of her wanted to stay with him as long as possible.

"Business or pleasure?" he asked. His worries for her well-being prompted him to hope for the latter, despite the fact that he wasn't going with her.

Rhone got a look on her face that said she was genuinely thinking. She finally came up with, "Neither." She really didn't know what it was. Maybe it could fall under the category of family if one took a very liberal view of the word.

He looked at her sideways with an "are we still doing that?" look on his face.

She clarified, "It's not exactly work, but it sure as hell isn't going to be fun." She saw the look on Lex's face. It was the look he got when they were having an intimate conversation and she called him Mr. Luthor. "I have to see someone," she started, "And I think that it's going to be the last time that I see them."

"I'm sorry," he assumed that that meant death was involved somewhere and he knew from personal experience how difficult it could be.

"All things pass," she said dismissively with a small nod as they reached the front door.

He looked at her as he opened the door. She always paused.

He knew that she was a person that felt things, but she did so much to stop people from knowing it. He didn't believe that she did her job because she actually liked the – elimination of potential security threats. She did it because she was helping people – protecting them. "Sometimes that is of little comfort," he said sincerely.

"How about, 'the only constant in the universe is change?" she offered as she stepped through the door.

He was surprised when she abruptly stopped and turned around. "I know you're in a hurry to get to the plant…" she implied that he didn't have to take her the entire way to her car.

He opened his mouth to speak but a soft ring emanated from his chest. He pulled his cell phone from his inside breast pocket. Okay, I get it, he internally sighed at the phone.

"I'll see you around," she smiled and started to back up in the direction of her car.

He started to walk after her, phone ringing in the hand at his side. He had a smirk on his face.

"You going to answer that?" she was still backing up and pointing at the phone. It would be so easy to just reach out and grab both of his hands. Rhone thought about rubbing her thumbs over his pale fingers – they would be so soft…

He knew he should answer it. Hell, he knew he should be in his car driving there already. …He wasn't leaving before he had to – wasn't leaving her before he had to. If he had to give up time with her like this, it could at least wait a few minutes. He didn't take his eyes off of her while he pressed the button on his phone and raised it to his ear, "Lex Luthor."

He knew it was Gabe Sullivan before he answered – and he didn't have to look at his cell phone display. He swiftly reached around Rhone for her car door handle when Gabe's voice started talking quickly in his ear. If he bent his elbow, he could wrap his arm around her waist and… If he could just touch her… Lex only understood about half of what Gabe was saying -- Rhone was smiling at him. Something about property damage that set off the alarm and something about right away…

She put one foot in her car and held up her hand in a pseudo-wave, her smile still lingering on her lips. He should get going… He inhaled deeply and backed up a few steps. "Are you still there?" Gabe's voice came over the phone.

Lex had an image of Gabe Sullivan actually shaking the phone he was holding and smirked. "I'm on my way right now, make sure that only essential personnel are allowed past the security check points," Lex pretended that he had been listening the whole time as he kept his eyes on the woman in front of him. His smirk became a small smile.

Rhone almost laughed out loud at that statement – she had little faith in Lex's hired security. She reached into her car and started the ignition while still standing half outside.

When Lex reached the midway point between Rhone's car and his front door, he reluctantly returned a wave similar to the one she had given to him and turned around. A voice in his ear was talking about a destroyed gate – oh, right, Gabe.

Rhone rested her elbows on the frame of her car door and folded her arms. She set her chin on them and smiled at him.

She straightened when he reached the large wood doors. She didn't realize that she had been – gazing at him. …There were many times she was thankful no one was there to see the way he affected her. …She really was a different person when he was around. She wasn't calculating or strategizing. She just was.

He placed his hand on the door knob and twisted it open. A wedge of light absorbed him. "I'll be right there," he absently assured the noise in his ear as he stepped into to the light. Just turn around, a voice said somewhere in the back of his mind – she's right there. He started to debate if that would make him look feeble to look back at her one last time.

He was pulling the door shut behind him when he heard her say to him, "Goodnight, Lex." …He paused. Lex? …Lex! He spun on his heels sharply.

Her car door closed. She didn't like leaving and it wasn't because she didn't want to go where she was going. She put her car into gear and accelerated slowly.

Lex's mood was quickly deteriorating. They hadn't seen each other in – well, hadn't spoken in over a month. And of all nights, someone had to set the alarms off at the plant tonight. …What had happened anyway? It didn't really occur to him that he should have listened to Gabe Sullivan a little more closely on the phone.

He pushed down the clutch and up-shifted. He rested his left elbow next to the window of his Aston Martin and brought his fingers to his lips in a thoughtful position. …Lex. She called me Lex. He perked up his eyebrows and couldn't help but smirk at the memory. However, his reaction was less than debonair… At least she probably didn't see it. …Why was he always doing things like that around her? He made – almost rash decisions, his actions weren't methodical, he got carried out of art museums like produce… Oh, God.

When had she started calling him by his first name? Had she said it earlier and he wasn't listening? He knew that that was not a possibility. He almost threw out his back in that doorway, whipping around that fast. He would have noticed had she said it before. …It was something that he had wanted and he couldn't buy it. He noticed things like that.

And there were so many things he wanted to talk to her about that he didn't even get a chance to. They were just forgotten. …Should he have offered her watch back? She hadn't kept the necklace. He didn't even think about it… Sword… How did she deflect those bullets…? How did she…? When did she…? Were they…?

Plant Number Three was just in his view and he hoped he could coast by with what little knowledge he had managed to hear on the phone. It was a good guess that no one would notice. He would get the full story soon enough. People would just think he was the annoyed billionaire woken up in the middle of the night from his castle…

There was a crunching noise as her boot came to an abrupt halt on the dry ground. She wasn't worried about stealth – it was about speed. And she had made pretty good time.

She listened hard and used her eyes – nothing. Well, a normal person would think that anyway.

It was extremely bright despite her black sun glasses. She was even getting a little warm. It wasn't like she thought a black trench coat in the middle of the desert wasn't going to be. …She was actually more comfortable than she thought though.

She focused her senses and took in her surroundings. It was so stark – an occasional bush or desert plant, rocks, and dust. Maybe an animal if you were lucky – or if you knew what you were doing. But she wasn't exactly here for that.

All that could be heard was the wind. Rhone's commanding voice pierced the calm, "You can come out. I know you're here."


	65. Chapter 65

Tap, tap. Lex looked up from his computer screen. It had been a week since he had last seen Rhone. He briefly wondered if it was her, but for some reason knew differently. "Yes?" he said. He looked at the clock, it was a little late. Mark must have been almost walking out the door…

The door opened and Mark entered, "Mr. Chade is here to see you, Sir."

Mr.? Who…?

"Lex, don't try to pretend like you don't remember meeting me?" Griffin walked through the door and clasped Mark's shoulder in a friendly way from behind. "I know you met a lot of Rhone's brothers that night, but I like to think if myself as one of the more memorable," he emphasized the word brothers. He had a large friendly smile on his face.

What was he doing here? "Of course I do…" his voice trailed as he stood. Should he call him Griffin?

Griffin knew that Lex didn't know what to call him. He protected the little military secret pretty well it seemed. "Griffin Chade, the most memorable of The Chade Clan," he joked. He removed his hand from Mark's shoulder and said to him, "Listen, man, you didn't have to walk me up here."

"It's my job, Sir," Mark quickly corrected himself, "Griffin." Mark started to back up; he didn't like to stick around after he announced company. He had been with Lex Luthor for a while now and knew if the company was welcome, he should make himself scarce. He hoped he had made the right decision bringing Griffin up to this office, it was late. However, his connection to Rhone made it seem like a good idea anyway.

Lex noticed Griffin didn't realize Mark was trying to leave, indicating that he really didn't understand Mark's – place in this house. Rhone seemed to have a similar problem. He briefly wondered if he considered it a problem because he just didn't like to share certain people.

"Goodnight," Mark quickly and politely made an exit.

Griffin looked at Lex and held up a hand as if to say, "What's with him?"

Lex ignored the simple question, "What brings you to Smallville?" He was extremely curious. He walked out from behind his desk and held out his hand to shake with Griffin.

"Well, you," Griffin said as he took Lex's hand. "Information," he clarified but yet still was vague.

"Are you alone?" Lex asked. Did those words come out of his mouth?

Griffin smiled mischievously – they were so oblivious. The smile quickly faded, however, and he became serious. "Actually, I wanted to talk about her," Griffin let go of Lex's hand and spied a couch that had his name on it. The last few days had been tiresome.

Lex wondered if this was the part where he had to explain his intentions with Rhone like a high school boy that had come to pick up his prom date. He chose the couch across from Griffin and sat on it. He noticed that Griffin looked like Rhone did when she sat on one of his couches. Very relaxed – taking it easy. However, Griffin's feet were on the ground – most likely it would only be a few moments until Rhone removed her shoes and brought her feet onto the couch. It was just was well, it probably wouldn't be as endearing if the man across from him did it.

"Has she…" Griffin hesitated, "Been around here lately?" He had no idea how else to ask.

Lex's back went straight, "Why?"

"Because I don't know where she is. No one does," he looked at the floor.

"What?" Lex creased his brow.

"Bishop used to do this shit to me all the time," Griffin raised his hand to the bridge of his nose. He was talking to himself just as much as he was talking to Lex.

Lex was trying to maintain his sophisticated exterior, "When was the last time someone saw her?"

"That's why I came here. She said she was coming here and then had something to do, but I didn't think anything of it," Griffin said.

"She said she was going to see someone," Lex offered. He wanted to help Griffin. If Rhone was in some kind of trouble and he didn't help, he would never forgive himself – he was carrying enough of that around.

"She told you where she was going?" Griffin looked up at Lex and leaned forward.

"She was going to visit a dying friend," Lex said. That was really all he knew.

"A dying friend?" Griffin repeated.

Lex knew that he was not being asked a question. He didn't like that Griffin had no idea about this dying friend. Did Rhone lie? That idea stung him a little. No, she just knows people that Griffin doesn't – she travels the world. …The world is a big place to be looking for someone.

It crossed Griffin's mind that this could be Paris all over again. He buried his head in his hands. It had occurred to him many times in the past few days. "This isn't Paris," he whispered to himself.

Lex barely heard what he said, but he heard it. He was about to ask about Paris when Griffin dropped his hands and spoke.

"I have the most sophisticated surveillance system the world has ever seen – can theoretically track anyone or anything, more resources than most countries," Griffin's voice was slightly raised, "I can watch a monkey scratch its god damn ass in the Amazon, but I can't find her."

Lex knew Griffin wasn't yelling at him. He knew how frustrating a situation like this could be – he had felt that way at the museum before Griffin brought him into the fold. …He was too worried about Rhone to care anyway. …Did his father have something to do with this? If he hurt Rhone…

Griffin noticed Lex's face harden. He felt guilty – he had scared the guy. He didn't want to admit it, but in a life with Rhone Chade – Lex better get used to it. Griffin began, "She did say that she was going somewhere."

Lex just looked at him.

"She went of her own free will," Griffin tried to assure him in some way, "And I've only seen one other person that could take care of themselves like she can. …Even he wasn't as good."

Somehow Lex knew the other person – it was Bishop. He couldn't help thinking that the man was dead now. Don't think that, Lex said to himself.

After a pause, Griffin said, "Maybe I shouldn't even bother." He was speaking to himself.

Lex decided to include himself in Griffin's private conversation, "Why not?" He certainly wasn't going to follow suit. He would try and look for her, but considering what his initial search for information about her had turned up, he had little faith in what he could find out. …It was an odd feeling.

Griffin leaned his head back on the couch and looked at the ceiling. "Great minds, great leaders…" He said absently. No, he told himself. She would find you, would look for you – quest for you, for any of the guys. He got up, "I should go."

Lex looked at Griffin; the soldier looked exhausted. Lex knew that look, normally he wore it. About ninety-nine percent of Lex told him to push Griffin out the door to find or save Rhone. However… "Why don't you sit down and rest for a minute," Lex suggested, "You look like you could use a break." The guy really did, and he had a feeling a half hour or so either way wasn't going to make a difference. Hell, it would probably help him do a better job if he got his mind off of it for a few minutes.

Griffin bowed his head. If Rhone were here, she wouldn't let him work if he were like this. Well, not all of us can basically give up sleep, he thought mockingly.

Lex could tell he was thinking about the idea. "You don't have to," he said lightly, "I'll just have to work on that expensive scotch alone."

They really are good together, Griffin thought. He looked at his watch and after a brief pause said, "Where is it?"

The door swung open so fast it banged loudly against the adjacent wall. "Bishop!" he exclaimed when he stepped through the door. It was late, but for this it wouldn't matter.

"Settle down, Boy!" the faint regal accent said from around a nearby corner.

Griffin ignored the fact that he called him Boy. …He hadn't called him that in years.

Bishop stepped out into the multipurpose room of his apartment. He was dressed as he always was; dark t-shirt and dark cargo pants – standard issue. For the most part, they all dressed that way most of the time. "What is it?" he asked. He just might have been getting angry – that was undesirable.

Griffin stopped to compose himself. "There was this girl," he started.

"You can keep that to yourself," Bishop said in an exasperated tone and rolled his eyes.

Griffin shook his head quickly. He was taken already, but there was no need to discuss that… "No," he started, "At the fight – in the fights." Hopefully, Bishop would know what that meant.

Bishop leaned his head forward and really looked at Griffin. "What? Where is she now?" Bishop grabbed his long coat off the back of a chair and was walking out the door. Griffin followed.

"I – I don't know," Griffin stuttered, walking at his heals.

Bishop snapped around fast and Griffin almost ran into him. "You don't know!" he repeated loudly – it echoed slightly in the hallway.

"I… would never do anything without consulting you, Sir. I got her license plate number," he hoped that would be good – please let that be good. It might not be enough to find her, he knew. All kinds of low-quality people showed up at those things, the car could be stolen…

Bishop started walking very quickly again, "Tell me about her." His voice was slightly calm. If there is a God, I owe you one. Well, in addition to the whole creation of everything thing.

"She's fast and strong and," he didn't really know what to say about her. "She took like three hits through the whole thing," Griffin could hardly describe it.

Bishop looked at him quickly and sharply.

"She won," was all Griffin could say.

"I want you over with the boys on that long term recon in the middle east," Bishop said suddenly.

It took Griffin a moment to process it, "Sir?"

"If we don't find her," he said harshly, "I suggest you take that plane and keep going."

A piece of Griffin withered. He had always considered Bishop the closest thing he had to a father – despite all the things that had happened, good and bad. He started to slow down, Bishop kept walking – the distance between them widening.

"And Griffin," Bishop tossed over his shoulder, "I also suggest you leave now – I can be quite persistent when I focus." The older man's trench coat trailed behind him as he receded down the hall.


	66. Chapter 66

"I've seen a lot," Griffin said, "Been through a lot. But I have never been that scared in my entire life." Griffin laughed dryly, "He was – dangerous." He had a look on his face that expressed the irony of the last statement. Anyone would think that of any member of their organization, but the fact that Griffin thought so….

Lex was sitting across from Griffin, each on their respective couches. Each of the men had a glass of scotch and they were sitting in relaxed positions. One looked far more comfortable than the other.

"This Bishop…" Lex led. The man sounded like a tyrant. He couldn't believe that Rhone talked about him like he was some kind of saint.

Griffin took his cue, "Things with Bishop were…. Normally, Bishop was a good guy. When things were good – which was a majority of the time, they were really good. …But when they were bad, they were really bad. He did his job well – almost to a fault."

"You followed him," Lex pointed out. He wondered why there was never some sort of mutiny.

"It was rare that Bishop got – angry or disappointed. He always won. He had very high expectations and was very accustomed to them being fulfilled," Griffin started.

Lex could tell that Griffin was either picturing the man or having some memory that heavily involved him.

Griffin continued, "He was charismatic and a brilliant tactician. He was like Rhone – could see so many moves ahead…. He was like Rhone in a lot of ways, but so different. …Well, I guess technically, Rhone would be like him."

Lex didn't like that statement. Was Rhone that kind of person when she wasn't around him? No, he wouldn't believe that. She wasn't that cold person she pretended to be for cops. Lex tilted his head to indicate that Griffin should elaborate on that last statement.

"They both had loyalty in way, Bishop led in a way that I really can't explain. Maybe everyone was just fascinated by what he was capable of. Rhone leads more through trust – faith – friendship even. I really can't explain that either," Griffin thought about that for a moment and smiled, "I never thought things could be like they are now. I woke up to a klaxon everyday for most of my life…"

More than once Griffin had mentioned his life. Lex asked, "How long have you been doing this kind of work?"

Griffin leaned forward and set his glass on the coffee table between them. He grabbed the rim of the glass and turned it a little, watching the way the light was refracted on its surface. "I thought you wanted to hear about how I met Rhone?" Griffin avoided the question.

"You have yet to mention actually meeting her," Lex pointed out.

"Well, I needed some set up," Griffin smiled, "Besides, this part of the story – I wasn't really there for. It's kind of what people told me – people that were there."

Lex grabbed Griffin's glass as well as his own as he stood. He made his way over to the decanter of scotch. "It seems like everything regarding her is a story," Lex said – more to himself than his companion. He was about to pour more alcohol into his glass but thought better of it. He picked up both glasses and the decanter before he headed back to his couch.

"More like an epic," Griffin said under his breath, but loud enough to be heard.

Bink, bink, bink, the noise was repetitive.

"What is that, D?" Rhone looked away from the screen she and Bishop were studying.

D pressed a few buttons, "…Oh, shit."

The noise stopped suddenly. Rhone got up and went over to D's monitor.

"Rhone, we are in the middle of something," Bishop pointed out. He had been training her on the system, specifically how to set up a red flag. He slowly turned in his chair to look at her back.

"Bishop," D began, "There was a distress call from the R-9." D tapped a few more buttons, "I couldn't get a lock. It disappeared over the desert."

"That's ours, right, Bishop?" Rhone asked as she turned to face him. Her face looked concerned.

"Who was on it, D?" Bishop stood.

"As far as I know, just Griff – he was the last one there," D informed him as he turned in his chair.

"So, what are we going to do to save him?" Rhone asked.

"We aren't doing anything," Bishop emphasized the word we. He had told her more than once that she couldn't do anything along those lines until she was put on the active roster. She was too new to be doing that sort of thing, despite the fact that she trained faster than anyone he had ever seen – including himself.

Rhone inhaled deeply, "Ok, what are you doing to save him?" She emphasized the word you. She understood there were rules and protocols to be followed, despite the fact that she knew she was ready – had been ready.

Bishop's face got hard – like he was recalling something that displeased him. "Nothing," he said simply. At the look on Rhone's face he continued, "If the plane went down, there's nothing we can do."

"Yeah, but if there was a distress call, maybe it was a controlled decent…." she started.

"Acceptable losses, Rhone. Get used to it – shit happens," Bishop raised the volume of his voice slightly.

"Am I missing something? Isn't he one of our guys?" she turned to D.

D looked at Bishop and looked down, "He's the one you haven't met."

"He probably didn't survive," Bishop said. He pointed to D's monitor that displayed the last known coordinates of the R-9, "And if he did, the desert has him now."

"Deploy a fucking plane. What the hell is wrong with you?" she said forcefully.

"All of our transports are deployed!" his voice was getting louder.

D was attempting to blend in with his ops console. Don't argue with him, Rhone…

"And you can't get another military transport? As the highest person in The United States Military, that gives you access to, what, a Volvo and a squirt gun?" she stood her ground.

"This discussion is over! My orders are final!" Bishop spun around and left a chill in his wake as he made a loud exit. No one ever disagreed with him.

D looked at the woman that was left in the room with him, almost in awe. Rhone waited a moment with a look on her face that indicated she wasn't afraid or even moved by Bishop's anger. But she had never been sent to the hole… Actually, she was extremely lucky she wasn't there right now. …It was unbelievable that she wasn't.

There was a swift knock on her door. Thalia turned from looking in the mirror to the door, "Come in."

She never thought she would see Rhone Chade walk through her door, not after what happened. But she did. She also closed it behind herself, indicating that she was going to stay a while – or just didn't want to chance being overheard.

Thalia was immediately defensive, "What?" She turned back to the mirror, and looked at the evening gown she was in. Perhaps she should go brunette with this one.

"I need your help," Rhone said.

Thalia looked at the other woman in her mirror. "I thought you had some kind of problem with the way I do things?" she said with more than a little distaste.

"You'll either help me help your lover or you won't," Rhone returned, "Just decide; I've got shit to do."

Thalia felt like she had just done a shot of liquid nitrogen but kept her demeanor steady, "Lover? What are you talking about?" She had had so much practice with this – denial.

"I see the looks you get when people talk about this Griffin guy – the way your posture changes. It's hardly there, but it is. You must be used to hiding it – not that I can blame you," Rhone was obviously talking about Bishop.

Thalia cracked. She turned around and walked towards Rhone, "If you tell my father about us…!" How did she know?

"I don't care about your little – whatever it is. Are you going to help me?" she asked again in a flat voice.

It occurred to Thalia for the first time that Rhone had mentioned Griffin needed help. She was so blinded by her wounded pride, by Rhone Chade, by the way she -- that she didn't even realize what she was asking. "What happened to Griffin?" she asked, worry taking over. …If something happened to him…

"Finally, we're getting somewhere," Rhone began, "Your father has put a freeze on anything we could assume control over easily and in the amount of time we have." Bishop knew her – how she would react to his decision to not help Griffin.

"What do you mean?" Thalia asked.

Rhone shook her head, not in the mood for story time, "I need you to do what you do best."


	67. Chapter 67

He looked up from his clipboard when the door opened. The shipment was full and ready to go out…. He breathed deeply when he looked up and saw her, just calm down.

Her long curly blonde hair bounced as she walked. She was dressed in a short black dress and everything fit – perfectly… So perfectly… Thank you, God, perfectly…

She reached his counter – her lips were full… "Wel-come," his voice cracked embarrassingly. "Welcome to World Wide Cargo Shipping," he was blushing and he knew it, "How can I help you?"

She set her purse on the counter and took off her trendy sunglasses. Her eyes were puffy. "Hi, Bill," she said weakly as she looked at his nametag. "I have a – a – package," she almost started crying when she said the word package.

"Ok, where is your package going?" he asked. Why would a beautiful girl like that be crying?

"It needs to be on your flight number N-1138," she pulled a tissue from her purse and wiped her eyes.

How did she know what flight number…? "Ms, that flight is full, I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He really did want to help her, but…

She let a single tear roll down her flawless face. "It has to be on that flight," she interrupted, "to be there in time."

"That flight leaves in an hour," he said with apology in his voice.

"You don't understand," she said. "That package," she stuttered at the word package again, "is my Great Aunt Esther." She started crying.

Bill held up a hand like that would stop the tears. "Is there something that I can do for you?" he was trying to be supportive.

"You can get her on that plane," she said softly through a fountain tears. "Please, Bill," she put her hand on his, "It would mean so much to me." She batted her dampened eyelashes at him.

"You know, I think I'm beginning to enjoy this," he said quietly to the back of her head.

"That's right, keep talking," Rhone said, "Those air holes aren't exactly huge, you know."

"Listen, if this is the last thing I do, I need to at least pretend that it could turn into something sexual," Thaxx said. …Dear Penthouse, I was sealed in a coffin shaped shipping container when…

The arm he was laying on had fallen asleep a long time ago and was getting really sore, but she hadn't complained so he wasn't going to. How long had they been in here? …He wasn't really claustrophobic, but this was a little too much like a coffin for his taste – like being buried alive.

"The last thing you do? If I recall, you have the easy part," she said.

"I'm talking about when I get back," he said. If I get back, he thought. Defying Bishop was not a wise choice. But Griffin was his fr— a valuable asset to the team. …This girl definitely had a pair. He hadn't known her for long, but he admired that.

There was a double beep. They both knew it was from his watch. "That's our signal," Thaxx stated the obvious.

Each was lying on their right side, so they pushed their left hands against the lid of the crate. It wasn't really moving. If they had nailed this thing down too much, this was going to be a real short trip – well, short in regards to the objective. No, that isn't an option Rhone told herself. She pushed as hard as she could.

The pilot gazed up at his overhead panel and pushed the glowing button. He adjusted his head set and gave a brief glance to this co-pilot, "You see that Sharks game on Sunday?" They were the only two people on this plane, and he had never flown with this co-pilot – all guys liked to talk about sports.

"Yeah, Robbins can really move," the co-pilot said absently as he glanced at one of the gages. He didn't even like football, but it was mandatory male conversation. He actually took time out to watch the games because at any point some random guy could come up to you and give you a pop quiz. And if you said you didn't like football, they looked at you like you had a third nostril or something.

Well, if he liked sports, he was obviously a good guy. "Did you see the cheerleaders got new uniforms?" the pilot asked with a faint smile.

"I would say they got new underwear, but that's just me," both pilot and co-pilot snapped their heads around in shock at hearing a third voice – a female voice. She was dressed in all black, sunglasses, and well, the most important part about her was the hand gun she had aimed at them. There was a man behind her, also with a gun.

Each man instinctively put their hands over their heads in surrender. This wasn't a passenger plane; there was nothing to be a hero over. So some guy on the other side of the world didn't get his book on deck building before the weekend, too bad.

She flicked the barrel of the gun upward, implying that they should stand. "Who's going to fly the plane?" the pilot asked. He was slightly worried about that.

The man behind the woman stepped around her, "Thaxx Airlines, come fly the unfriendly skies."

The woman kept her gun trained on the pilots as the man took his position in the captain's chair. She held up two pairs of handcuffs and said, "Where if the restraints aren't too tight, you get a full refund – or a bullet in your brain. …Maybe some frequent flyer miles – we haven't quite worked out all the details yet."

The pilots were silent – awkwardly silent. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth.

He put his right hand over his head, used his left hand for balance beneath him, and pulled with his arms – pushed with his legs. His body scrapped across the ground.

He hadn't been out here for that long – well, by being trapped in the desert standards he had been. The landing was rough and he didn't have any supplies. The plane was on fire and he didn't have time to get anything. So he was alone, pulling himself across the desert.

…I'm never going to see her again… It's so hot… What good would crawling do anyway? How far could I get…? She had the greatest laugh… It's so bright… That pain in his left side was making him see colors where he knew there weren't any… Her skin was so soft… I'm thirsty… I'm never going to see her again…

He stopped crawling.

The sun seemed less bright on his back. Maybe there was finally a cloud. Then he felt it – someone turned him over. He opened his eyes and was assaulted by light. He squinted his eyes so they were just slits. There was a dark spot in the middle standing over him. The light made it seem like God himself was casting his approval over its darkness.

He opened his eyes a little more, it was a woman. He had only seen this woman from afar before, but he knew her. "Why are you…?" he started but felt water on his lips and completely forgot about her for a moment. It had never tasted so good. Not even when….

"You're hurt," she said, "Shut up."

He finished the water and rested for a moment. He leaned on his right elbow and looked around. Nothing. Just her. "Where is every one – Bishop – Tally?" he sounded as though he had just been roused from a deep sleep.

She didn't say anything and stood from her kneeling position. She took a step toward his feet. He followed her with his eyes, there was a wadded up cloth there – a parachute. He sat for a moment. …Shit… He lowered his head slowly back to the ground. What kind of rescue was this? She must be – unbalanced…


	68. Chapter 68

He heard it, the sound of a plane. He knew what it was; he had heard it so many times. It was also far different than the sound of the parachute he was laying on scrapping across the ground.

He had considered getting up and walking himself, but he was in so much pain… And so tired… He felt guilty, but her constant pull on the parachute straps around her shoulders indicated that she showed no signs of wearing. It was just as steady and strong now as when she had started… He looked at the sun; that was almost a day ago – nonstop.

The sound of the idling plane was coming closer. He was actually excited – he would see Thalia again. He tried to look, but couldn't see anything.

There was another noise; he knew it to be the back hydraulic ramp of a plane opening. …A shadow passed over him – it felt so good – and he knew they were underneath the plane, near the ramp, but they stopped.

He heard a few pairs of boots on the lowered ramp and then on the ground. He looked up into familiar faces. He was saved. He didn't even know her and she had saved him…

She stopped just short of the ramp. The straps to her parachute were still coming out of the pack on her back. The parachute blew in the desert wind now that it was relieved of Griffin's weight. A few people on the plane hoped that she would blow away – for her own sake.

Bishop emerged from the darkness of the interior of the plane like he was emerging from a dense evil fog. He walked down the platform and stopped about midway down, just looking at her. His face betrayed no emotion. A few of the guys brought Griffin up the ramp beside him, but he paid them no heed.

After the men had receded into the plane he spoke loudly over the hum of the plane, "Do you think you could march back to base from here?" His tone was one of sarcasm, referring to her march across the desert.

They were both standing perfectly erect, neither showing any hint of – anything. She reached up to her sunglasses and pulled them off, turning her head slightly to do so. She turned her attention back to him and said, "I know I could."

They stood for another moment, neither saying nor doing anything. Then Bishop tilted his head back and began a regal, brisk laugh. He reached in his front pants pocket and pulled something out. He looked at it for a moment and tossed it to her under hand.

She held up her hand and the silver object flew into it as though guided by divine force. "Get on the plane, Rhone," Bishop said after he had turned and started to walk up the ramp.

She looked at what she had caught. It was a watch like all of the others wore. She turned it over, there was an inscription:

_Tomorrow the world_

XXXXX

He pried his eyes open. It felt like a kindergartener had put paste in them while no one was watching. His mouth was dry and something was agitating his arm. With some effort, he lifted his hand slightly and looked down – there was an I.V. in it. How had he forgotten that? …He was in the Medical Room at home – base. Normally, it wasn't a good place to be, but this time it was just good to be alive.

He was going to look over and see if Rhone Chade was in a bed next to him, but he heard her voice, "You're awake."

He turned his head – Man, everything hurt. She was leaning her back against the wall with one foot against it as though she was playing a significant role in keeping it standing. …She was here? He had seen Tally briefly and she said that Rhone was fine – actually, she showed no signs of what she had done. It was like she had gone out for a walk on a fine spring day instead. In addition to being fine, she had defied Bishop, and was not in the hole – lucky. No, someone was watching over her.

She pushed off the wall and closed the distance to his bed. "I'm…" she started.

"Rhone," he rasped and held up a meek hand to shake.

She nodded and took his hand, but it wasn't a shake. They grabbed hands firmly – he as firmly as he could, as if solidifying some great alliance. The kind of alliance that could move a mountain or part an ocean and it would just be getting started.

They let go of one another and she said, "Rest."

She turned to walk out. "Why did you come for me?" he rasped, "You don't even know me."

She didn't really answer his question, "Because that's the way it should be." She reached the door, "That's the way it's going to be."

XXXXX

"And we have been," Griffin paused as to not say friends, "Allied ever since."

"Bishop didn't seem to be," Lex looked at his Napoleon Frank watch – it was Thursday, "Adverse to punishing people. Why didn't anything happen to Rhone? What about the people that helped her come for you?"

"Well, if he wasn't going to punish the ring leader, it would be pretty hard to punish anyone else," Griffin was looking at the decanter of scotch. They had only made a small dent in it.

Lex leaned forward to fill Griffin's glass again, but the soldier picked it up and shook his head. He smiled, "I don't really think I should. I should have left a while ago and I drove here."

Lex nodded. In a way, he wanted Griffin to stay. He was a good guy – a good guy that had Rhone stories. It was also kind of nice to hang out with another guy that was… Well, they were probably the same distance in age as he was from Clark – but on the older side of the spectrum. However, they were closer in – life experience than he was with Clark. "Why did he let her off?" Lex was referring to Bishop.

Griffin maintained his smile and shook his head, "I asked him that once. He said, 'Griff, that girl was born one of two things: leader or savior." He did an imitation of Bishop when he quoted him – English accent prevalent.

Lex looked at Griffin as if to say, "And that means what?"

"In either case, she would chafe against authority. She couldn't help doing the things she did. Not only that, but it made her the best," Griffin clarified. "He never let anyone off like that before her," Griffin said as he stood to leave. She was never punished for anything.

"Why was she different?" Lex wondered aloud as they reached the door to his office.

Griffin shook his head, "I don't know for sure. But a lot of things changed after she came. Bishop changed…"

Lex looked at him inquisitively.

"I gotta go, Man," he walked ahead of Lex to indicate he didn't need help out, "Thanks for the booze. Maybe the next time I come over, I won't have to drive – or remember my name…"

Lex wasn't going to follow Griffin out if he didn't need it. It just wasn't something you did with another guy. At least, he didn't think it was. He never did with Clark anyway. "Let me know if you hear anything," Lex tried to sound nonchalant. He was going to ask for continuous hourly updates but couldn't crack his urbane exterior enough to do so. He had a feeling Griffin would contact him if they found something.

He internally sighed at the thought of Rhone calling him urbane. It felt better and better every time he remembered it.


	69. Chapter 69

Lex brought his hand up to the door and was about to knock but stopped short. He listened again. It was early, but there was noise coming from the barn. Good.

He rapped his knuckles against the screen door frame three times. He always felt so odd when he knocked. Was there a debonair way to stand when someone answered the door? He rested his forearm against the doorframe and leaned against it. …Why didn't they have a doorbell anyway? …They must not get a lot of visitors out here. The farm wasn't exactly near anything.

He straightened and raised his hand to knock again when the wooded door behind the screen door swung open. Martha Kent smiled warmly from the other side, "Lex, what are you doing here?" She was drying her hands on a white and blue checkered dish towel.

"I know that it's early, but I was wondering if I could catch Clark," he said without preamble. The noises in the barn had quieted. He didn't fear Jonathon Kent, there was nothing to fear. But he deeply valued his friendship with Clark and staying on good terms with his father was a good idea. Lex had figured out that their relationship went much more smoothly when he didn't see the family patriarch very often. …However, there was a part of him that yearned for The Kents approval. He was only willing to admit that to himself after some – adult refreshment. Usually it was scotch or brandy, wine wasn't normally enough.

Her smile faded slightly, "I'm sorry, Lex, he left early this morning. Chloe needed some help with next week's Torch layout."

Lex couldn't help wonder what Martha Kent considered early. It was almost 7 am right now. He didn't even go to sleep last night. He didn't sleep very well normally, but Griffin had come to his mansion and told him that someone he – was friends with – was missing. And there was nothing he could do to find her. He also had a light queasy felling in the pit of his stomach, which was odd because he didn't get sick.

He nodded in understanding and glanced over his shoulder. He looked back to her and with a gesture asked, "What happened to your field?"

Martha Kent looked passed Lex with slightly widened eyes and a soft intake of breath. There was a field behind the barn; normally flat and grassy, but now had curled lines of sod with no definite pattern. She quickly put a comforting smile on her face, "Jonathon was testing out the tiller."

He looked at her for a moment, thinking that tillers didn't make random grooves like that. But then, what did he know about farming anyway? "Maybe I'll try to catch him there then, thank you," Lex started to turn to walk away. He felt guilty about making her stand in the door. It was getting colder outside as November came nearer to an end.

"Would you like to come inside, I made breakfast," she offered politely.

Of course you did, Lex thought. "I already had something, thank you," the thought of eating made his already upset stomach turn. Any other time he would have said yes. He always wanted a dinner invitation, but this was a step in the right direction. She probably had a pound of greasy bacon or sausage in there… Ugh, he swallowed hard.

He started for his car. Should he have mentioned the purpose of his visit to Mrs. Kent? He was going to ask Clark if he had heard anything from Rhone. She had seen him that night. They also spoke on the phone occasionally… And that was obviously information that he didn't have. What if he found out something and couldn't tell Griffin? He had started his own search for Rhone but needless to say it had come up with absolutely nothing. His face became sour as he reached for the handle of his car door.

XXXXX

"Lana, you're here early," Clark walked into an empty Talon. He told his parents he was going to school to help Chloe – and he was, just not directly there. He was just going to grab some coffee. That wasn't lying; it was just a – detour.

"One of the girls overslept," Lana sighed as she filled a napkin dispenser.

Clark sat on one of the stools on the other side of the counter and gave her an imploring look.

Lana smiled softly and Clark wondered if, despite his super strength, he could get off of this stool under his own free will.

XXXXX

"Where is Clark!" Chloe angrily snapped at her computer. She looked around innocently to make sure that no one else was in the room. She was alone. Good, no one really needed to see or hear that little outburst – especially the subject of the outburst. He was always late. She checked the time again and exhaled loudly.

Maybe she should have asked Pete to help her instead. She had asked him to in the past, but he never wanted to get up more than a second before he had to. And seeing as it was Friday and classes had been canceled for two extra days for a teacher conference involving training for fire emergencies, the school was deserted. She couldn't really blame Pete that much; even she had fully celebrated the preceding day off by doing nothing.

She shook her head to herself; you have to make sacrifices for good journalism. She looked to the door again, empty. Obviously, she was the only one that felt that way.

She refocused her attention on her computer and the article she was writing about a minor car accident. She nodded her head once in a definitive manner.

…

A door closed somewhere. Chloe furrowed her brow as she sipped her coffee and stood slowly. She straightened her long skirt with her free hand as she walked to the half closed door. When she reached the door she peaked around the corner.

…Nothing. She rolled her eyes and shrugged. She was about to walk back to her desk when she heard another noise that she couldn't identify – a rustling. She walked out of the door and into the empty hall. For the first time, she noticed a very odd, faint smell. She smelled the coffee in her hand and smelled the air around her again in hopes to more easily identify it from contrast. Her eyebrows knitted and she began to walk down the hall.

XXXXX

Lex unbuttoned his trench coat as he walked down the abandoned hallway towards The Torch office. He saw Chloe's car in the parking lot – the only other car in the parking lot – so he was slightly perplexed at the empty office when he got there. He was debating whether or not to stay and wait for Clark – he was coming if he told his parents that is what he was doing – or if he should just try later.

He looked at the watch Rhone had given him – Friday – and decided that maybe he should shake up Claire by showing up early. The thought of slight vengeance brought a smirk to his lips.

He started to walk out when it hit him – the smell. …Rhone. It smelled like her but on her it was so faint that you couldn't smell it unless she was – close. Lex took a deep breath. He turned and walked down the hallway, towards the smell. It was getting stronger and he was putting a fair amount of effort into identifying it. He still had not been able to pinpoint the association he made with her scent.

He was directly in front of a glass trophy case when his foot hit something. He looked down and saw a disposable coffee cup from The Talon and a puddle of dark fluid that his Italian loafer was resting in. He sighed.

Suddenly, he got a strong whiff of the smell he had been following. He straightened instantly – he remembered. It came to him like the sun's first glimmers over the horizon and in that second, the day starts.


	70. Chapter 70

"Are you having a hard time keeping up, Alexander?" she stopped and completely bent at the knees to be at his level.

He bit his lower lip and shook his head quickly. He didn't look into her soft eyes, just focused on the long skirt of her bright white sundress. He didn't want her to know that he practically had to run to keep up with her. If she thought he couldn't keep up, she might not take him with her anymore. …He secretly fiddled with the inhaler in his jacket pocket, just incase.

She gave him a knowing smile and lifted her hand to smooth his already perfectly combed red hair. Then she put her hand under his chin and gently raised his eyes to hers.

Her face was framed with deep red ringlet curls. Her wide brimmed white hat caused a vague shadow to be cast over her sparkling blue eyes. Her smile was widening as she looked at him adoringly in his child size suit and tie. …His mother was the most beautiful woman – ever.

She softly rubbed his cheek with her thumb for a moment before she slipped her hands under his arms and picked him up. She rested him above her hip and wrapped her arm around him securely.

He felt the silky fabric of her dress and her nurturing hold on him, immediately he felt his eyelids sag. The glass greenhouse was approaching. He worked his forehead into her neck and relaxed. He would just rest for a second, he promised to help her pick out flowers. He wanted to keep his promise to her; she said that she needed his help.

He heard a door open and a smell hit him. It was – awful. It smelled like dirt and rain and the humidity that he felt close in around him. He would never forget that – unnatural over accumulation of natural smells. He crinkled his nose before he drifted off to sleep.

XXXXX

Lex didn't have a chance to smile to himself; something was slowly wrapping itself around his right ankle. Startled, he looked down quickly.

It yanked hard and he lost his balance, hitting the back of his head on the glass side of the trophy case. He heard the sound of glass cracking and darkness closed in on him like he was in a tunnel walking backwards, watching the light get smaller and smaller.

XXXXX

The sword slammed into her neck just below her right ear. She didn't move to block it or react when it hit her. It was like her soul had gone on a vacation and didn't bother to tell the rest of her. That scared him and the old man quickly dropped the katana he had used to hit her. In his language he said, "What's wrong?" If she hadn't been using the relic he could have…

She stood there for a moment, staring straight ahead. At least he thought she was staring ahead, he couldn't see her eyes – just a dull reflection of himself staring back at him. In only a second, this motionless figure made the cave they were sparring in just that.

When she moved again, she turned to him and shook her reflective head. The liquid mirror of her helmet folded down and melted into the rest of the metal armor. "Sensei," Rhone used his native tongue, "I saw it again."

He knew instantly what she meant. She had told him about the false vision and the girl that caused it. It was one of the reasons she had returned to him. Well, that and…

"Was it the same?" he started to lead her to the exit. He knew she would leave if it was what she had seen before.

"I think so," she was obviously still thinking.

"Go," was all he said. He didn't know why, but he was alright with the other things she had told him. Maybe it was because a part of him understood it.

She looked at him as she quickly absorbed the rest of the relic. Her face said that she didn't know if she was ready to leave them yet, specifically leave him yet. This may be their last chance. But she needed to go, had to go. …Lex.

"I told you that you could come back whenever you wanted and I still mean it," He said honestly, "But we both know that this is goodbye." He thought he would never see her again after she went back to the military. He was ushering her closer to the exit.

He was old – she didn't know how old, but ancient. She was busy, to put it mildly – and halfway around the world.

When they reached the exit he handed her the trench coat she had been wearing on her arrival and said, "I don't have anything else for you. I told you everything that I know."

She knew what he meant. He was talking about the relic. What he had told her could fit on an index card – cut in half. "I know," she made it sound like he had given her an ocean of knowledge.

She looked at him one last time as she put on the coat. He was dressed in a uniform similar to the one she wore to train in. He was tall and thin with white hair so wispy, any slight breeze disheveled it.

"Remember, true heroes don't need gratitude," he put a hand on her forearm.

She bowed low to him and when she straightened, saluted. Rhone didn't want the last thing they said to one another to be goodbye. She turned and ran into the desert at a dead heat.

XXXXX

Clark abruptly stopped using his speed a few feet from The Torch office – why did it smell like – a freshly tilled field after a heavy rain in here? He dismissed it. He knew that he was late. Chloe would probably give him some annoyed look and be cranky for about a half hour. …It was worth it.

He put on his best smile and turned into the office, "I…"

No one. He looked behind the door as though she was going to jump from behind it and yell "surprise." He ventured, "Chloe? …Lex?" He had seen both of his friends' cars out front. There was a faint noise behind him, almost like a cracking noise.

He used his speed and went down the hall. He paused and used his X-ray vision – nothing. He moved and checked again – nothing. When he paused again, he knew something had happened. One of the trophy cases had a crack in it at a point slightly lower than his head on it. But the big clue was the small amount of blood that was near the center of the crack – a circular impact point. He quickly used his X-ray vision again and saw 3 skeletons down the hall in one of the rooms. None of them were moving. Two of them were – suspended, one of which was holding something. The other was sitting at a table with their back to the door – but the skeleton didn't look right, he could almost see through it.

He sped to the door marked Agriculture Lab and tore the door open. He was assaulted by the smell of dirt and flora.

He could barely see Adra Arden – he knew it had to be her – in the center of the room, it was so dark. The windows were completely covered over with – vines or plants or something. Clark looked around as he eyes adjusted, they were – everywhere. The walls, ceiling, not to mention a lot of the floor was covered with them. This was disturbing, but more so was that they were – breathing – almost pulsing. …Actually, the most disturbing thing was Lex's hand sticking out of one of the foliage walls – at least it was a safe assumption that it was his billionaire friend's hand.

Clark felt something wrap around his left calf. He looked down and saw a thick vine encircling it. He felt the same thing around his left wrist. "Adra, stop!" he yelled. That never works, he told himself as he felt a vine going for his right ankle. He used his speed to divest himself of the vines that had already started to claim him.

He ran to Adra and grabbed her shoulders but his hands just kept sinking into her. It was like squeezing a very rotten watermelon. He felt his hands get wet through her shirt. The plants started to rustle intensely as his face turned to one of disgust – sick. He pulled his hands out of her and tried to get a good look at her. She was darker than she should have been, but without the light, he really couldn't see much else. He backed off quickly, she smelled like a compost heap – at least, what was left did.

Rhone's words came to him. She had told him to stay away from Adra – and to protect Lex. Well, it didn't look like staying away from Adra would be much of a problem.

He ran to Lex's hand and started tearing vines away from it. The vines were strong; a normal person may not have been able to tear them without a significant effort. He used his speed to keep the vines off of himself as well as to reach Lex. It felt like everything else slowed down, like when he watched bullets come toward him.

He panicked slightly. It felt like it was taking a really long time to get Lex out of there but in reality it was probably far less than a minute. He didn't know what exactly the plants were doing to him, but it probably wasn't good – if Adra was any kind of indication.

He finally tore Lex out and sped him down the hall a short way. His friend was still breathing but not completely conscious. He had a small wound on the back of his head and looked – well, messy. While Clark was setting him down, Lex opened his eyes, "Clark?"

In a way this was bad, he would probably have to run normally now. "Lex, are you okay?" he didn't wait for an answer, "Get outside and call for help."

Lex nodded and started to stand up. …Wait. He gently pushed Clark away, indicating that his flannel clad friend needed to go back inside, "She's been in there for longer than I have." He knew it was safe to assume that Chloe had fallen prey to – whatever the hell was in there. He didn't know why, but for some reason he thought it seemed like a rational idea to send Clark back in. He looked around to get his bearings, but when he turned to face his friend again, he was gone.


	71. Chapter 71

He was tearing away vines again. Come on, Chloe…

He felt something. It wasn't Chloe, but he grabbed onto it and yanked it out. It was – a bottle of weed killer? He dropped it. He ripped away three vines that were trying to latch on to him and started to free Chloe again well before the bottle hit the floor.

Finally, he felt her. He willed her to be okay. He put his work boot against the wall of vines, grabbed her hands and pulled. At first she didn't move and Clark almost began to panic. He pulled just a little harder, he didn't know how much of his strength to use. She slowly started to move. He internally cheered, but the more he saw of her, the quieter that cheer got. She looked a lot worse than Lex. He didn't know how long she had been in there. …If he had been on time, this probably wouldn't have happened. Of course it wouldn't have. This was his fault.

He quickly gathered her into his arms. He caught site of the bottle of herbicide as he did so. He looked a Chloe, she was a smart girl. He remembered the way the plants reacted when he – accidentally sunk his hands into Adra. Well, it was worth a shot.

He snapped up the bottle and unscrewed the cap. Sorry, Adra, he thought as he sped past her and shoved the up side down open bottle into her chest. She was already dead anyway, he tried to convince himself to not feel guilty. Chloe needed help…

XXXXX

Lex was putting on his trench coat, partly because it was November and partly because his clothes looked like someone had wadded him up and tossed him into a trash basket. He was feeling that way too. However, it was hard to believe he could have easily died from affixation this morning. ...He had been in Smallville Medical that long. He was glad that he was finally free to go – it was getting dark outside.

There was a knock on the door and Lex looked up. Clark opened it despite not officially being invited in. "How are you feeling?" the boy asked.

"Fine," he lied. "Thanks to you," he was honest about that. "How's Chloe?" he was curious. The girl was a friend of Clark and was decent to him most of the time. He had already arranged for flowers to be sent to her.

"She's awake," Clark suddenly found the deep teal blue hospital wall interesting, "Already spewing theories."

Lex smirked and nodded, "Can I get an advanced copy?" Lex knew that when the police got there, pretty much everything was covered in decayed plant matter – a lot of it. Like there were plants there years ago, but the project had been abandoned. Nothing else was really out of the ordinary, for a greenhouse.

"A while ago, Adra told us she was cut on a piece of meteor rock…" Clark started with a sigh.

Adra…? "Adra Arden?" Lex's look was sharp. Rhone had told both he and Clark to stay away from that girl. Lex was basically unconscious every moment he was in that room, so he never saw her. Not that he would be able to identify her if he did see her. …How did Rhone know?

Clark knew Lex wasn't angry with him. He was hesitant to tell his friend of Adra's involvement because of Rhone's warning. But when someone figured out Adra Arden was missing, it might raise a few questions for Lex anyway.

"Chloe thinks that there must have been some kind of reaction with the plants she was working on and the plants changed," Clark had a look on his face that said he had no idea what he was talking about and was barely getting by summing up Chloe's theory. There was also something about negative energy in there, but he didn't really believe that part. "Maybe there was a…" his voice trailed, "Like a Venus flytrap?" He was looking for a word.

"A carnivorous plant?" Lex acted like he was suggesting but knew that was what Clark was looking for. He put his hands into his pockets.

"Yeah," Clark nodded, "And…"

His voice trailed again. But this time Lex knew that it wasn't because he was looking for something, it because he was withholding something. "And we were the food?" Lex finished.

Clark got a look on his face that said, "Well, yeah, kind of." He really didn't know how someone of Lex's stature would react to even temporarily being comparable to an hors d'ourve.

Lex brought his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose. …Well, he didn't have a better explanation. "Need a ride home?" Lex asked. Somehow, his friend appeared completely unscathed and barely worse for wear from the whole experience. …But he wasn't in there… And he had probably gone to sleep last night.

Lex really didn't remember anything specifically, but just knowing that he was going to be very slowly crushed – suffocated – and digested made him – uneasy. If Luthors could be frightened, he would have been at the mere thought. He really didn't want to be alone, the more time he had to reflect on that idea, it would probably be for the worse.

Clark paused, "Um, no. I'm going to hang out with Chloe for a little while." He looked at Lex, "And you should get home and get some sleep. You look…" He was going to say tired, but finished, "Like you could use some rest."

XXXXX

Even in the darkness, she saw the guard from the gate of Luthor Manor was gone. She felt like her lungs constricted in her chest. She was – worried, had been worried since she started her unstoppable mission to get to Smallville. She didn't stop to think about it, if she did that – just don't do it.

Her car was where she left it when she got back to Metropolis International and it vaguely occurred to her to call Griffin as she pushed its limits, but she was like a moth to a flame – everything else could wait. If something had happened to him… Would he even be here? He could be in a police station or the hospital or… Something told her to come here. Trust it, Rhone, she told herself.

Her car was in the area of the driveway just before the gate, so she was off the road. No one would hit her black car in the darkness. After turning off her engine, she absently locked the doors as she quickly got out and shut the door behind her. She was looking at the small building the guard at the gate normally sat in – more like slept in. No amount of her brain power was making him appear either.

It occurred to her to break into the building and open the gate, but she decided against it. She ran at full speed to the gate and jumped onto it. She climbed it easily and when she reached the top, sailed back to the ground on the other side. She hit the pavement running and didn't stop until she reached the main entrance to the castle – still no lights. …Still no Lex.

XXXXX

Lex was leaning both of his arms against the edge of the fireplace mantle in his home office, staring at the crackling fire within it. For the most part, he had been like this for a few hours now. He knew that this would happen. He looked up briefly to the late evening that was outside of his windows before returning his gaze to the only light in the room, the fire.

When he arrived home from the hospital yesterday, it was already evening. He tried to bury himself in work, but his brain started cranking. He had faced his mortality yet again that day. That was so close… How did Clark…?

Then his mind would stray to his missing – friend. Was she okay? What if he never saw her again?

Then his mind would wander to the memory he recalled just before he was – snared. He reached to the back of his head and fiddled with the small bandage there before returning his hand to the mantle and hanging his head.

How could he have forgotten that day? How could he have forgotten some of those little details about his mother? …He was so young then. A ghost of a smile played over his lips when he remembered the way she used to smile at him, like he was the center of her universe. The back of his throat started to hurt and he swallowed hard as he tried not to think about it.

How could he not have identified the scent of Rhone Chade as that organic smell of a greenhouse? And why did it smell good on her? It was barely there, just a hint of it. That was probably why. Either that or it was just because it was on her – it could go either way. If he ever got to be that close to her again… …If…

He had sent all of the staff away last night and gave them today off as well, so he could dwell on all of these things in peace, alone. …He was getting really hungry.

However, he was more tired than hungry. Last night didn't yield rest, just as the previous night hadn't. He was so… He didn't really know what emotion it was, but he didn't like it… He was so tired… He was so alone…


End file.
